


Jeeves and the Pea Test

by Trista_zevkia



Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Fairy Tale Retellings, First Kiss, Fractured Fairy Tale, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-05
Updated: 2012-04-05
Packaged: 2017-11-03 02:17:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When using vegetables to find royalty, you've got to expect a few nuts in the works.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jeeves and the Pea Test

Jeeves and the Pea Test

Once upon a time, there was a handsome young prince, who didn’t want to marry. Being the heir to his uncle’s kingdom, he knew he had a duty to marry. He would do so, but it was understandable that he decided to put it off as long as possible. This made his uncle unhappy, so one day he made a point of saying so. 

“I don’t like seeing you alone. You should get married.” The King said without preamble. 

“Whom did you have in mind, Uncle?” Their kingdom was an isolated, island country. As such, they didn’t have a great many royal neighbors to select brides from. 

“I’m still king, I’ll simply change the law so you may marry whomever you wish.” A generous offer, but it would accelerate the marriage the prince was trying to delay. Fortunately, the prince was rather clever. 

“I see no merit in changing the law for my convenience. The law has served our kingdom for generations, and I must insist that I follow the old ways.” 

The king snorted at that, he knew a delaying tactic when he was presented with one! “As you wish, Reginald.” 

The prince offered his uncle a formal nod of appreciation. 

“I’ll simply send envoys across the pond to places with eligible royals. Advertise your situation, as it were.” 

Reginald looked rather scandalized, by the way his eyes slightly widened and his nostrils flared, but gave another nod. This nod was acceptance of the situation. As much as he hated the inappropriateness of publishing his difficulties, he knew it would buy him more time to himself. “Uncle, how will we be able to confirm if someone answering the advertisement is being honest about their lineage? I have very little patience for dishonest people, as you well know.” 

“True, and I don’t want to align you with someone you cannot stand. You’ll still get to choose your spouse, Reginald, but I’ll establish a test.” 

“Very well, Uncle. I suppose we all must do what is best for the kingdom.” Reginald didn’t sigh after his words, but his Uncle Charlie knew he wanted to. King Charles let himself sigh, and wish for somebody to make his nephew happy. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Between them, King Charles and Prince Reginald settled on a system to find someone suitable. The most uncomfortable mattress they could find was placed in the nicest guest room. It was threadbare, lumpy and smelled funny, no matter how well it was cleaned. A second, but nice, mattress was placed on top of this, along with the finest linens and blankets. King Charles believed a pretender would be exhausted from the charade, and sleep well no matter where they were. A true royal would be too sensitive and refined to sleep, yet still bratty enough to complain about it in the morning. 

Reginald believed someone raised on the finery of royalty would be secure enough in their position to say they slept poorly. Pretenders to the throne would lie about how well they slept, believing they’d had the finest bed in the castle. Just to be sure, Reginald evenly spaced ten dried peas between the mattresses. Nobody would sleep well on that bed, encouraging them to make mistakes over their stay. 

The uncomfortable bedding worked, better than they expected. A princess would arrive with her entourage, and be greeted warmly. After a tour of the castle and an excellent meal or two, she would be shown to her room. The next morning, she would appear with bags under her eyes and announce how well she slept. A look would be exchanged between the king and prince, shortly before she was politely told that she’d never marry Reginald. 

After turning away the fifteenth woman, a prince turned up. It was unexpected, but Reginald gave him the pea test without flinching. The fake prince was dismissed as easily as the other suitors, but King Charles broadened his search to include eligible princes. Reginald didn’t seem to mind, and Charlie was for whatever made his nephew happy. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Reginald had the best education opportunities available, and even after ending his formal education he kept learning. He read books on every subject and turned this knowledge to practical applications around his kingdom. Irrigation had increased crop production, and strange machines had eased the workload on his people. Happy and prosperous, the people of the kingdom loved the idea of him, but King Charles received the honor of Reginald’s work. Most wouldn’t even have recognized Reginald if he’d walked down the street in normal clothes. Today he was in normal clothes, getting them dirty beside the blacksmith’s shop. 

A happy and prosperous kingdom had things that needed to be done, but not much to keep his massive brain occupied. As such, Reginald sought a distraction at the forge. He shirt sleeves were rolled up while he attempted to fix the timepiece that had been imported decades ago. Despite a tiny bit of padding on his stomach from food fit for a king, he was in good shape and could pound out metal with the fully trained blacksmith. But he had a special skill for tiny details and often found himself doing these delicate tasks. 

While his hands worked, Reginald was considering accepting the next person to arrive, simply to end this farce. Marrying would make his Uncle happy, no matter how miserable it made Reginald. Besides, Reginald was a rational man who knew true love wasn’t something one could count on. As much as he wished for it, his brain said he’d never find someone to love. Or, more precisely, someone to love him. 

Reginald knew he seemed cold and distant, but he simply couldn’t help thinking before he spoke. He knew he was more attracted to the occasional prince than the frequent princess, so that was a choice he would allow himself. Closing the back of the clock, Reginald made a promise to himself. Unless the next prince was absolutely disgusting, he’d marry him and get it over with. 

“Hullo!” 

Reginald looked up at the greeting, surprised that someone had walked up on him. He must have been deeper in thought than he’d known. That soft footed someone was beaming down at him with a friendly smile. 

“Hi! I’m Bertie the Bard, a traveling troubadour!” This came with a deep bow, even as Reginald stood and spoke. 

“Isn’t that a bit redundant, Sir?” The face that returned from the bow looked confused, so Reginald had to explain. He wasn’t sure why he’d said anything, as he considered it rude to offer such statements, so clarifying was only fair. “I believe a troubadour is defined as a wandering musician; as such you are a traveling, wandering musician.” 

“I see what you mean. Fortunately, none of the other people I’ve said that to were as smart as you.” 

The easy smile that came with these words surprised Reginald, as it wasn’t the usual response to rudeness. The Bard was dressed in filthy, stained clothes, only the cases of his musical instruments showing care and concern. He wore a guitar on his back, probably a harp in the bag hanging from his left shoulder and right hip, and a drum crossing the opposite way. Reginald was distracted from the oiled instrument cases when Bertie snapped his fingers and looked up. 

“Bertie the Bard, the terrific troubadour! Better right? It makes sense and it’s still catchy!” 

“It does effectively convey your name and occupation.” Reginald’s words made Bertie laugh, and clap him on the shoulder. 

“I like you, you’re smart. Still, I could murder a cup of tea and a hot bath. Do you think the occupants would let me, in exchange for a bit of melody?” Reginald considered the request and the fact that the bard didn’t know he addressed a prince. 

“Do you play piano?” 

“Every chance I get! Love to tickle the ivories, but I have to travel a bit lighter than a grand p. Why?” 

Reginald hesitated before answering. Was Bertie the Bard an idiot? “There is a piano, inside.” 

“Oh, I see! Wonder what I’d have to pay to get a chance at that?” 

“Excuse me, but I thought you claimed to be a bard?” Reginald’s words chased the hopeful, curious expression from Bertie’s face. 

“I do! I mean, I am a bard.” 

“Then they pay you to perform, not the other way around.” Those words brought another smile, one so brilliant Reginald almost smiled back. 

“Right again! I could use a brain like yours. I just love to play, so sometimes I forget about payment and food.” The growl from his stomach emphasized his words, and made Reginald smile just a little. 

“Come with me Sir, and I’ll get you a hot bath and a meal.” 

“Oh no, I’ll go clean up in the river before presenting myself to the homeowners. Don’t want to get you in trouble, old horse!” 

“King Charles would rather see a hungry man feed then a presentable bard.” 

“Well, if you’re sure, because a hot bath sounds bally marvelous after my travels.” 

“I often wish I could travel more, so perhaps you would tell me of yours?” Reginald asked, even as he led the way into the castle. He was surprised at the casual way he admitted to one of his deepest wishes, but this bard was so easy going Reginald felt himself relaxing around him. 

“Really? I’m more of a homebody, and I’d love to simply stay at a nice place with a decent piano. And the occasional drop of the good stuff, I will admit to a liking for that!” 

“Then why don’t you seek out such a posting?” Reginald looked away from the servant’s staircase he was climbing to see Bertie respond to this question. The bard blushed, and looked down at the stairs. 

“I’m a bit of a trouble magnet. I don’t know how these things happen, but when they do I find it best to leave.” 

“What things?” Reginald stopped on the stairs to stare at Bertie. Thieves, assassins and incompetents were not welcomed here. It must have shown in his voice and posture, because Bertie was quick to understand. 

“Nothing dangerous, I assure you! I don’t know what it is, but everywhere I go I get talked into doing things I don’t want to do. Or some modern woman decides I’m going to marry her, even though I haven’t shared more than two words with her. I don’t mean for things to happen, but they do.” 

Bertie shrugged, and Reginald believed this ridiculous statement. Deciding he could no longer think of himself as a rational man, Reginald turned and led Bertie to the guest room. 

“I say!” 

Stopping in the door of the room with the bathtub, Reginald looked back. Bertie was standing in the main door, looking around in awe. When he saw Reginald looking, he shrugged and spoke. 

“I’m just a bard, I usually get servant’s quarters or some hay in the barn. I can’t take this nice of a room, you’re sure to get in trouble!” 

“I assure you, I will not get in trouble. This will provide you with a hot bath, privacy and rest so that you may perform your best.” A gesture with his hand to bathtub and he had Bertie’s curiosity. Bertie tiptoed across the room, as if afraid normal steps would knock dirt off of him to the clean floor. He was probably right, Reginald thought, but didn’t say. 

“Goodness! That’s the biggest tub I’ve ever seen! Bet it takes hours to fill with water.” Since he was in workman’s clothes, Reginald didn’t have to adjust his attire as he stepped to the front of the tub. 

“It used to, actually. Two and a half hours of carrying buckets of water up the servant’s stairs to fill this tub. But,” Reginald hesitated, not wanting to ruin the easy atmosphere just yet. “The crown prince thought this wasteful, so he came up with this.” 

Reginald turned on the taps and waited until the water came out of the pipes. Bertie stared, struck dumb for a solid minute, before his face split into a huge smile. “That’s marvelous! Running water inside a building!” 

Reginald allowed himself to turn up the edges of his lips in a smile, please at the reaction. His people had become used to this rather quickly and servants worked it for guests, so he didn’t get to see that kind of appreciation often. Even though he preferred to work in the background, Reginald found it was nice to be appreciated. 

“If you remove your clothing, I’ll take it down to be cleaned while you bathe. I can even procure other things for you to wear, if you’d like the clothes inside your bag cleaned as well.” 

Bertie gave an embarrassed chuckle. “I don’t have any clothes in my bag, that’s for mouth organs and pipes. I’ve got two changes of clothes, and I just wear them all, changing what’s on the outside when I need to wear something different.” 

Reginald couldn’t repress a violent shiver at the idea, but Bertie must have missed it. With the bath full and at the perfect temperature, Reginald stood and turned to face his guest. Bertie had removed all of his clothing and was staring at the bath with longing. Reginald’s attention was drawn, not to the nudity or the sharp relief of bones that were visible, but to the small wooden duck in Bertie’s hand. Bertie noticed the look, and held it out for Reginald to inspect. 

“A childhood toy I couldn’t part with.” 

“The bath is ready for you, Sir.” 

“What’s all this sir stuff? I’m just Bertie.” A shrug later, and ‘just Bertie’ was in the tub, sighing in bliss, his ducky floating before him. Reginald bit back the urge to laugh, and carefully gathered up the filthy clothes. 

“I will bring you clean clothes shortly, Sir.” 

Before Bertie could wake up enough to reply, Reginald had slipped out of the room. A quick survey of the rags allowed Reginald to decide to throw them all out and provide Bertie with new clothes. Digging through the stores of goods for household servants, Reginald found pieces that would bring out the blue in those sparkling eyes. He considered taking Bertie a new bag for his clothes, but didn’t want to think about the man leaving just yet. He couldn’t have said why, so he convinced himself it was only Bertie’s friendly nature. Who else, when offered the nicest guest room, would be thinking about someone else? 

Reginald sent a servant to tell his Uncle that a bard had showed up, and carried the clothes upstairs. Bertie was asleep in the tub, so Reginald had to fake a cough to wake him gently. 

“Sorry! Guess the water’s perfect.” Bertie blushed a little at being caught sleeping, and Reginald smiled, a tiny upturn of the edges of his lips. 

“I would not have woken you, but supper will be served shortly.” 

“Supper! Marvelous!” Ducking under the water, Bertie sat up and washed his hair. When he was satisfied it was rinsed well, Bertie climbed out of the tub. He walked over to where Reginald was preparing the shaving things, toweling at his hair. 

Reginald turned away to drain the water, but allowed himself an appreciative look at Bertie’s naked backside. Thin, but strong from a nomadic lifestyle, perfect for holding. Reginald quickly looked away, to find a place for the duck to dry. 

“Say, old thing, I never got your name!” 

Placing the duck on a small cloth and on the windowsill was easier than answering that question. How long could a person be in a kingdom before learning the crown prince shared the same name as the man helping you bathe? He had other names, ones people didn’t use as much, so maybe he could use those and not lie. 

“Though, if you don’t want to tell me, so I can’t tell them who put me in this room, I’d understand.” Bertie sounded apologetic for having asked such a simple, polite question. 

“Jeeves, Sir. My name is Jeeves and I appreciate your consideration. I was simply attempting to make your duck comfortable.” It was a silly thing to say, but before Reginald could regret anthropomorphizing a wooden duck Bertie was moving. Naked, with half his face covered in shaving cream, Bertie moved to stand beside him. 

“Thank you! Nobody’s ever cared for Benji before, but that wood has to dry slowly or he’ll crack and I’ll lose him.” The tone of Bertie’s voice brought heat and color to Reginald’s cheeks. 

He’d moved to take care of an object simply because it was wisest and Bertie was made happy by such a simple expediency. 

“I endeavor to give satisfaction, Sir.” Bertie laughed and tossed a friendly arm around his shoulders. And Reginald found himself wanting to react, more than he ever had in his life. He wanted to pull Bertie in for a kiss and then see just how clean the man was after his bath. “Sir! Um, supper will be ready shortly, if you wish to finish shaving.” 

Oblivious to Reginald’s confused stuttering, Bertie swung away, back to the mirror. He began to whistle as he finished shaving. His whistling only stopped when he saw the clothes laid out for him. 

“Jeeves, old horse, those aren’t my clothes.” 

“They are now, Sir.” 

“You’re very kind, but I’ll give these back for my others.” 

“Those items, Sir, were little more than rags.” 

“Maybe, but that salmon colored shirt brought color to my cheeks.” 

“As it did to most who viewed you in full sunlight, Sir.” 

“Those tartan pants were the envy of my friends!” 

“It is most kind of you to volunteer your time with the blind, Sir.” 

“These are boring, respectable even!” 

“That was my intention, Sir.” 

“I’ll, I’ll tell your king!” 

“That I destroyed your rags and provided serviceable clothes of a higher quality and value?” 

“Err, well, when you put it that way. I guess I did need new things, I’m just not used to all this for nothing.” 

“Sir, the royal family has a particular fondness for piano playing. I expect you will pay for the new clothing by performing until you run out of songs.” 

“That’s a deal I can go for! Though if I do run out of songs, I might even make up a few, just for you.” 

“Most kind, Sir. If you’ll follow me, I show you to where the servants eat.” 

They went to the kitchen and while Bertie introduced himself to the staff, Reginald sent a message to his uncle to say he wouldn’t be at supper. He often took a meal in the solitude of his room when engrossed in a project, so his uncle would think that was why he was avoiding supper tonight. Reginald saw no reason to change this assessment. The servants gave him a respectful berth, and left him to eat with Bertie. 

The Bard insisted that the nap had refreshed him and he needed to pay for his lodging. So at the appropriate time, Reginald showed him to the study. Trusting to his Uncle’s love of music, Reginald returned to his room and opened the window. He could hear as Bertie sat at the piano and began to play. It was the happy tunes Uncle Charlie preferred, but Reginald still enjoyed it. When the music was finished, Reginald feel into the deepest sleep he’d had in a while. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Reginald knew the situation was untenable, but that didn’t stop him from trying to make it last. He had breakfast and lunch with his Uncle, but avoided supper and after supper meetings where the bard would play. In his room at night, he could read and work on his projects, while listening to Bertie. Skilled on the piano, Bertie could also turn his hand to any of the other instruments available. Reginald would have been jealous, as he’d always wanted such a skill, but Bertie was too nice to hold negative feelings for. 

Jeeves would arrive in Bertie’s room after lunch, supposedly to clean things. Somehow, they’d wind up spending the afternoon together. The first few days it had been a tour of an aspect of the castle or kingdom, but as the days past, no reason was needed. Jeeves would work on small projects or read, while Bertie practiced on his instruments. Occasionally Bertie began to play a certain tune, but he’d refuse to talk about it if Jeeves asked. So Jeeves just let Bertie play whatever he wanted, and only remarked on the quality when Bertie was done for the afternoon. 

It was a pleasing routine; with Reginald’s only worry being the end he knew had to come. When a messenger arrived, bearing news of an approaching prince, Jeeves knew he had to tell Bertie the truth. Jeeves went to collect Bertie for their afternoon together, but stood with his hands behind his back to speak. Bertie noticed the posture and sat in a chair before asking. 

“Something up, old horse?” 

“A messenger arrived this morning, and a prince will be arriving tomorrow.” 

“And you want me to vacate the room? No problem!” 

“Well, yes, but that’s not all.” Bertie was up on his feet and gathering his things, and apparently didn’t hear the end of Jeeves’ statement. 

“I’m just glad you didn’t get in trouble. I know you said you wouldn’t, but you’re very polite and might have just said that to protect me.” 

As Bertie continued to chatter, Jeeves moved to gather up his clothes. The two outfits Jeeves had brought Bertie that first day had grown, each time Jeeves had seen something appropriate. Reginald had a few ideas about what the Royal Taylor could do with that lanky frame, but no valid excuse for such excess. When their arms were full, they walked together to the servants’ quarters. Jeeves put Bertie’s clothes away in a much smaller dresser and told him where the communal bathroom was. Jeeves was working up the courage, again, to say what he had to, when Bertie sat on the edge of the bed. 

“When it’s time for me to leave, would you come with me Jeeves?” Bertie was speaking to the floor between his feet, but startled Reginald into forgetting what he was about to say. 

“You don’t have to leave, you can be the official court bard.” 

“I don’t want to leave, I like it here with you. I mean, in this kingdom. But something will go wrong, and I’ll have to leave.” There was a plaintive note in Bertie’s voice, which Reginald hated. He crossed the room to kneel before Bertie and ease that melancholy. 

“No, Bertie. You don’t have to leave. I’m honored that you would ask me to go with you. But I have to tell you something about me, something that will make you think less of me.” 

Bertie laughed at that, relaxing in his relief. He looked up at last, to smile directly at Jeeves. “Nothing could do that, you’re bally marvelous!” 

The trust, respect and awe leveled at Reginald was a heady combination, making him drunk in an instant. There was no other reason he could think of that he leaned forward and kissed Bertie. Reginald didn’t give his physical wants much consideration, so it was completely natural that one kiss should shred his dignity, at least that’s what he’d tell himself later. For now, he fell onto those lips as if starved for touch. There was a moment’s hesitation and then a very enthusiastic Bertie was kissing him back. Arms clashed as they tried to find a way to wrap around each other and noses bumped repeatedly. They did find a place where it was the exact opposite of awkward and thinking was unnecessary. 

Reginald would have happily stayed there forever, but Bertie was leaning off the bed. His foot moved a little, and Bertie was sliding off the bed. Reginald caught him and set him back on the edge, but the spell was broken. Reginald remembered what he’d come to tell Bertie, and how stupid it was to admit to his desire for Bertie at this time. Lurching up and onto his feet, Reginald fled from the room. He would have run, but he needed the time to think about where to go. 

His lips weren’t the only part of him trying to engage in physical activity with Bertie and he couldn’t traverse the castle with that guiding his way. He made it to the communal wash room of the male servants unobserved, but only because most servants were working during the afternoon. By the time he was presentable, Reginald had decided where to go and set off to find his Uncle Charlie. The number of cases brought before the court decided how long it would last, so Reginald would check there first. 

Bertie’s recovery from the kiss had been shorter, helped along by his general confusion. He had questions that his anatomy claimed there were answers to, but he didn’t have a clue what they were. What did two blokes do after kissing like that? Whatever it was, Bertie really hoped fleeing wasn’t part of it. The regret on Jeeves’ face had been so unlike him, that Bertie stood and set out to find an answer. He didn’t know where Jeeves’ room was or even what his official title was, which made it a difficult job. Still, he knew Jeeves, and Jeeves liked to keep things tidy. Grinning, Bertie decided Jeeves would be cleaning out the guest room so recently vacated, and headed that way. Bertie did run, but who expects to turn a corner and run into a king? 

King Charles was a dignified man in his mid sixties, but he was still a pretty solid presence. Rubbing at his chest, Bertie held his right hand out to help the King back to his feet. “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty! I’m a clumsy goof on the best of days, and I wasn’t watching where I was going today.” 

“I’m fine, Bertie, just don’t make a habit of it.” 

“What? Oh, that’s very funny. Ah, Your Majesty.” 

“Bertie, you seem distracted.” 

“I was just looking for somebody, guess I overlooked you while looking for him.” 

“Oh?” King Charles seemed to think on this statement, but came to a conclusion quickly. “Walk with me Bertie. I’m just going to my room to change out of my courtly robes for supper.” 

Bertie hesitated, but he wasn’t known for telling regular people no, let alone a king and employer. Besides, after having collided with the man, making sure he stayed all right was the least Bertie could do. 

“So, young bard, have you heard the news?” 

Bertie’s face radiated panic, as for one blind second he thought King Charles was referring to the kiss. Jeeves was too private a person to ever tell, though, so Bertie calmed himself. 

“Your audience is expanding, as a new prince comes tomorrow.” 

“What’s he coming for?” It was an innocent question that kept either of them from thinking of why Bertie had been running down the corridor. 

“To court Reginald, my nephew and heir.” At the king’s words, Bertie tripped over something, air perhaps. He was blushing when he looked back up at the king. 

“You’d really allow your kingdom to be ruled by two blokes, together?” 

“A happy king takes better care of his people, and that’s what it’s all about.” 

“My aunts would hate you! Um, no offense meant, but they thought happiness was overrated. At least when it came to deciding things about my life; they seemed pretty happy.” 

“Why did they decide for you?” 

“Oh, my parents died when I was little, so my aunts raised me and my sister. She married a strong-willed man who had their approval, so I went traveling. They’re bound to be happier without me.” 

“I doubt that, you seem to bring joy wherever you are. Look how happy my nephew has been since you’ve been here.” 

“I don’t think you can give me credit for that, I don’t think I’ve even met him.” 

King Charles frown of sympathy turned to confusion at this statement. “He didn’t come tell you to move out of the guest room this afternoon?” 

“No, Jeeves did. And I’m thrilled to go. I’m sorry, but that’s the worst bed I’ve ever slept in! Last two weeks I’ve slept in the bathtub.” Bertie turned his grinning face to the King to share the laugh, but he’d stopped walking about two steps back. “Sir, are you sure I didn’t hurt you when I ran into you?” 

“Didn’t Jeeves change out the bed when you told him that?” 

“He never asked me how I slept. Usually he came in the afternoon anyway. Why, does it matter?” 

King Charles spent some time thinking about that, before answering with a smile and regal gesture. “Just a desire to make our important guests comfortable. I hope you have a great night’s sleep tonight, and will be ready to impress the Prince who’s coming.” 

“I’ll do my best, your Majesty.” 

“Go Bertie, get back to whatever you were doing before I interrupted you.” 

“Yes, Sir!” Bertie was off and running before he finished his reply. There was something significant about the prince’s arrival, and he needed Jeeves to explain it to him. And that kissing thing! 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Finding his uncle had dismissed court for the day, Reginald had to turn around and gone back to the living quarters of the castle. Uncle Charles liked to change out of his regal robes as quickly as possible, claiming the cloth was trying to drown him. Reginald would have thought it was a physical manifestation of the problems that Charles struggled with, but the man was given to fits of whimsy. Knocking on his chamber door, Reginald was met with a quick call to enter. Uncle Charlie was dressed and putting on his shoes when he looked up at Reginald. 

“Something you need?” 

He was smiling when he said it, but Reginald didn’t pause to think about it. Sometimes, he had to push past over-thinking things and say what needed to be said. 

“Do you remember, back before we decided on the pea test? You offered to change the law so I could marry anybody, instead of a royal and I declined.” 

“I remember.” 

When no other words seemed forthcoming, Reginald considered his uncle was being deliberately obtuse. Pushing the thought away, Reginald continued. “I would like to take you up on that offer, Uncle.” 

“Look my boy, just because he can tap out a few tunes on the piano doesn’t mean he’d be good for your kingdom.” 

“What? Bertie is everything you wanted me to be and he’d be perfect for any kingdom! He’s kind, generous and more concerned with other people than himself. He reminds me to enjoy life, instead of just making it through another day.” 

“I know, Reginald. I’m old, but I’d have to be dead not to see the way you’ve come alive since he’s been here.” Somewhere between angry and confused, the look Reginald gave him demanded an answer. “For Bertie’s sake, I wanted to make sure you knew why he’d be good for you. But that kind of change in the law will take time, so we must treat tomorrow’s prince the same as the others. See to it.” 

“Yes, Sir.” A slight bow and Reginald turned to follow out his uncle’s instructions. But he cleaned the guest room and put fresh linens on the bed with his mind in a whirl. By the time he left the room, he knew he would have to talk to Bertie before he got rid of any of the thoughts that cluttered up his mind. Fortunately, royalty was notorious for their lack of punctuality. The messenger told them to expect the prince at lunch, so they’d have most of the afternoon to talk before he arrived for supper. After breakfast Reginald would talk with Bertie and beg his forgiveness. If Bertie felt half of what Reginald did, they’d find a way. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Naturally, this prince would defy the standard and bounds of a polite society by showing up before breakfast. When informed that the household was still preparing for breakfast, the man insisted on a tour of the kitchens and gardens. A very proper Prince Reginald and King Charles, dressed to impress, waited on the man to be escorted to the breakfast room before eating. He entered with enthusiasm, and smiled through the formal introductions. After bowing to Reginald, he clasped their hands together. 

“Long have I heard of a wondrous place, where clean water flows in even the kitchen! I looked for years, only in passing to hear of a young prince in search of love. Anatole knew, in his heart and soul, that our quests would be solved in each other. I, the world’s greatest chef and Prince of the Gauls, am awed by your genius!” 

Reginald now knew he liked being appreciated, and he enjoyed the emotional openness of Bertie. So, he really should like this prince instead of feeling his skin crawl where they touched. “Prince Anatole, you are most welcome to join us for breakfast. I would be interested in learning how our simple fare compares with the delights of your kingdom.” 

Anatole was a clever, articulate conversationalist, even after they’d moved away from discussing food. Though to achieve this, Reginald had to escort the chef as far from anything food related as he could without leaving the extensive castle grounds. Reginald also grew to accept Anatole was a man a strong feelings, who wasn’t averse to sharing them. He complemented the food at lunch, but didn’t eat much of it. Sensing the unspoken request, Reginald asked if Anatole would do them the honor of preparing them a dish. He’d agreed readily, but begged Reginald to join him. Reginald tried to politely refuse, but Anatole didn’t get the subtle hint, saying he’d need all available help for the supper he had in mind. 

Planning on sending Bertie a note of explanation, Reginald walked with Anatole toward the kitchen. The kitchen door had only just opened when Anatole began speaking of the assets of the kitchen, so Reginald’s head was turned toward him until a clattering noise changed his focus. Bertie was standing by the servants’ entrance, the remains of his lunch splattering his pant legs, broken plate at his feet. The broken remains of his heart were leaking out of his eyes, as he stared at Reginald in his princely clothes. Reginald took a step toward him, and Bertie turned and fled. The servants knelt and began cleaning up the mess, effectively blocking Reginald from following for several moments. By the time he’d entered the corridor, not even the echo of Bertie’s boots on stone floors remained. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Bertie hadn’t been in his room, but his instruments were. Knowing he’d come back for those, Reginald set guards on the room to inform Bertie that Reginald wished to speak with him. Then, because searching by himself would be inefficient and not because he was desperate to explain, Reginald set the palace guards and servants to finding Bertie. He told them all he’d be in the kitchen, knowing well his duty to visiting royalty. Anatole was careful not to ask what that had been about, instead doing his best to engage Reginald in the art of cooking. 

When the meal was simmering, or developing flavor as Anatole called it, they finally left the kitchen. Reginald had to tell the head cook (who’d watched Anatole with awe) his plans for the evening so Bertie could be brought to him. During the walk to the guest room, Reginald repeated the news to anybody he met who might have been searching for Bertie. Once Anatole was in his room, Reginald retreated to his own. As he changed for supper, Reginald reevaluated his assumptions. 

He’d believed Bertie would come back for his musical instruments, but what if he didn’t? What if he had left after lunch, never to hear the explanation Reginald had. Would the reasons matter where emotions were involved? By the kiss they’d shared, Reginald believed emotions were involved, but perhaps Bertie wasn’t sufficiently interested to get over the betrayal. 

Before Bertie, Reginald would have accepted Anatole with pleasure. Intelligent, articulate and having an actual skill, Anatole was far superior to most suitors Reginald had entertained. But now, after Bertie, Reginald knew he’d be settling for, and resent, anyone less than Bertie. A final look in the mirror and Reginald decided. He’d explain to Anatole and wait for Bertie to turn up. If Bertie was gone, or could not see past the lies, and Anatole was willing, Reginald would marry Anatole. Regents had survived worse marriages for their countries. 

Supper was so mouth watering good, King Charles couldn’t keep asking about news from other kingdoms as he had at other meals. Instead he sat at the head of the table and moaned with each bite. Anatole was proud of his cooking, but being justified in it brought up his estimation in Reginald’s mind, even though Reginald didn’t have an appetite. 

When they retired to the sitting room, the lump in Reginald’s throat wouldn’t let him speak. The lump only grew when he saw Bertie was there, but refusing to look at him. Guards waited at all the exits, so Reginald knew he’d get a chance to talk. He didn’t know if he’d get Bertie to listen with such strong arm tactics, but he had to try. 

Once they were seated, Bertie gave a very proper bow and sat at the piano. He played automatically, without any of the soul that Reginald had heard from his room, two stories up. Forgetting Anatole, his uncle and his responsibilities, Reginald carried his after dinner drink up to the piano. Setting it on the top of the piano, Reginald sat beside Bertie. 

Startled, Bertie stopped playing, even as he tried to not see the man sitting next to him. Carefully, Reginald worked his way through the melody Bertie didn’t talk about. He found the right notes and his tempo was accurate, but the whole room was glad when he quit. Turning to see Bertie’s profile, Reginald spoke for him alone. 

“My Mother was an accomplished player and tried to teach me. I can hit the notes, but I can’t make music. Do you understand the difference?” Bertie turned to him with a frown, but figuring that was better than being ignored, Reginald continued. “I joked with my Mother that I couldn’t play musically because my soul was too technical. But in truth, I didn’t have a soul until I met you. I might not be able to create music, but you do that for me.” 

“If you like me, why did you mock me?” 

“Mock? How did I mock you? I betrayed you by lying about my name and position in the household.” 

“Perhaps,” sounded a voice that made both men jump. They’d forgotten about their audience! Enjoying their response, King Charles let them focus on him before continuing. “Perhaps, I can explain that. Bertie, Reginald wasn’t mocking you, he honestly didn’t know.” 

“Really? I was afraid the whole world knew, or knew enough to figure it out.” 

Reginald had long known he didn’t like not knowing something, so this conversation had him sitting even straighter on the bench. 

“Reginald, why did you give him the pea test?” 

“I didn’t, I completely forgot about that. I put him in that room to better soak off the dirt of travel.” 

“Please what is this pea test? Are your peas defective in some way?” Anatole chimed in, fearing he was losing the conversation during translation. 

“One moment, and I will explain all, Prince Anatole.” There was something regal about King Charles in that statement, so everybody waited for him to continue. “That law you asked me to change Reginald, allowing you to marry whomever you wished? I wrote it up about two weeks ago, when I figured out who was making you happy. Imagine my surprise yesterday, when I discovered I didn’t have to. Bertie passed the pea test.” 

“I didn’t do anything to your peas!” Bertie was more frustrated than angry, but still blushed under the intensity of Reginald’s gaze. 

“Bertram, Anatole, we designed the pea test to weed out imposters. If I wasn’t convinced that both of you gentlemen were genuine royalty, I wouldn’t be telling you about it. Essentially, we made the bed uncomfortable, looking for people who would admit to it. Bertie slept in the bathtub for two weeks to avoid sleeping on the bed, but was such a distraction to Reginald’s brain that they never talked about it. Anatole, I’m sorry. A month ago, I would have approved of you, but now I find Bertie is the only one I can tie to Reginald.” 

“You say he is royalty, but I do not see it. Pretty enough, yes, but royal?” 

King Charles let Reginald turn to face him again before answering. “Bertram is the crown prince of Yaxley, who abdicated the throne in favor of his sister.” 

“I know of this! Even in Gaul this was remarkable. Said his sister was smarter and more level headed. She married for an alliance and Bertram disappeared.” 

Anatole’s words confirmed the memory the names stirred in Reginald, so he spun around to appeal to Bertie. 

“Bertie, you though I was playing dress up to mock you, to criticize you for leaving your kingdom. I was so afraid you’d hate me for the lie, I didn’t even consider other reasons. I was tired of the artifice of respect and always being at an arm’s length because I was a prince. I thought you’d be formal, polite and so different if you knew who I was. I found I liked you too much as you were to risk losing it.” 

“Oh, Jeeves! You’re so ele, elophant?” 

“Eloquent, Sir?” 

“That’s the one, and you’re double eloquent. I was terrified of having to leave, even after this afternoon I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving you. All I can say is I love you.” 

“That is more than adequate, Sir, as I love you too.” The kiss was little more than a pressing of lips when applause broke out behind them. Reminded, once again, that they weren’t alone, Bertie and Reginald turned to their audience. 

Anatole was applauding with a handkerchief in his hand and suspiciously damp eyes. King Charles wore a very not regal smirk. Standing, Reginald moved over to bow to Anatole. 

“Prince Anatole, I am sorry you have come all this way for nothing, but my heart is engaged elsewhere.” 

“Prince Anatole of the Gauls, is jealous of both princes, but will not hinder them.” Anatole accompanied these words with an elegant flourish of his hand and King Charles laughed. 

“Don’t feel bad Reginald. I sent him a note back with the messenger who announced he was coming. Offered him a reward if he’d blatantly court you to force you to confront your feelings about Bertie.” Another smirk was directed at Reginald’s shocked face, which to most of the world would have looked only stern, before Charles turned to Anatole. “So what reward would you prefer, Prince?” 

“Only what I came to beg for, running water in a castle! I want fresh water brought to my kitchens, so we can clean food and hands before we cook. Anatole does not appreciate bugs in his produce!” Bertie laughed from the piano bench and Anatole smiled at the sound. “I have brought several master builders to study your system. While they learn, I will prepare a wedding feast to make you cry with joy. Fitting, I think, for the union you will have. You will cry, but cry together and always will you find joy when you are together.” 

“Jeeves, are we getting married then?” 

“If you will have me, Bertram.” 

“Good, because I have some questions I want you to answer. About what happened the other day, when I moved rooms.” 

“After the wedding!” King Charles was speaking with the full weight of his crown behind him. 

Bertie blushed crimson, thinking he’d been subtle in what he’d said. 

“We must observe the proprieties after all.” 

“Naturally, Uncle.” Reginald replied and Bertie tried to hide his disappointment. He was really curious about whatever came after those toe curling kisses! “If I might take the liberty, Bertie does need to be moved to more appropriate quarters. Plus, some changes must be made to the guest room, before Prince Anatole retires for the evening.” 

“Quite true, Reginald. Please see to it.” King Charles turned to talk to Anatole for a while longer, noting the chaste way Reginald took Bertie’s elbow to lead him from the room. Once they were in the corridor, Reginald told the nearest servant to find assistance and remove the bottom mattress in the guest room. Turning a corner, Reginald and Bertie were at last alone. Unobserved by a third party, Reginald slid an arm around Bertie’s waist. 

“Proprieties must be observed, but when we are unobserved proprieties can go hang.” 

Bertie laughed and clapped a hand over his mouth. He suddenly didn’t want to attract any attention from anybody, except Jeeves. The thing he needed to tell pushed away his laughter and Bertie dropped his hand. 

“That song, the one you played in there? I, um, sort of wrote that.” Bertie was blushing and speaking to his shoes. “I was trying to make something as musical as your voice.” 

Reginald couldn’t let himself look at Bertie after that statement, it would break his willpower. Instead, he pulled Bertie to his rooms. What they did behind that closed door, was unobserved by anyone interested in propriety. Jeeves locked the door behind him with trembling hands. He turned to put those hands on Bertie, but Bertie pounced on him too quickly. 

Automatically, they seemed to find that place where kissing was beautiful and fun, no trace of awkwardness. Reginald forgot he had hands, until they touched Bertie’s skin. Bertie gasped, and Reginald’s head smacked into the door behind him. Eyes locked they stood and breathed, even as their bodies searched for the next step in the dance. 

“You are so,” Reginald started to say. He stopped to hear what Bertie had said at the same time. 

“Your eyes are,” Bertie stopped for the same reason, and smiled joyfully at this bit of silliness. 

“Beautiful!” They said together, before kissing away any further attempts at speaking. Reginald found a new skill; undressing another person without letting them out of an embrace. Bertie found that source of perpetual joy he knew existed. He’d searched all his life for a reason to be as happy as he seemed, and now he was looking up at a mostly dressed Jeeves from where he sat on the side of a bed. 

“When did I get to the bed?” Bertie asked, but he wasn’t concerned with the answer when Jeeves pulled off his princely finery. When Jeeves was down to his underclothes, Bertie scooted back onto the bed. Jeeves seemed to hesitate, talking himself into dropping those underclothes, before he did so. As quickly as he could, Jeeves climbed onto the bed and sat beside Bertie. It wasn’t fast enough, because Bertie got a good look at naked, erect Jeeves. “What am I going to do with that?” 

Jeeves pulled back from the kiss he was aiming at Bertie. “Pardon me, Sir?” 

“Oh, it’s not you, love! It’s me, I don’t have any idea, with, well, um.” A deep breath to end the stammering, and Bertie tried again. “Take a stallion and a filly. They’re not shy, and it’s easy to see part a goes into socket b and whatnot. I’ve not done this with a human filly, mind you, but I have a general idea. You, not so much.” 

“I understand the difficulty, as I have not studied this area, anymore than you have.” 

“What? You don’t know all about this?” 

“No. It wasn’t a priority. I expected to marry for the benefit of my kingdom, not someone I desired.” 

“Oh. I see. So what do we do?” 

“We have fun figuring it out.” 

“Excellent idea, love!” 

Gangly arms shot out and encircled Jeeves, who was smiling as he leaned in to kiss Bertie. Falling to his side on the mattress, with Bertie securely in his arms, Jeeves laid them down with the intention of caressing every inch of Bertie. Instead he found his right hand on Bertie’s cock, which made Bertie arch and moan. 

Jeeves experimented, squeezing, stroking, and seeing what move got which reaction out of Bertie. He was so beautifully expressive that Jeeves knew he’d never enjoyed an experiment more. Teasing the vein on the underside with his right hand, Jeeves let his left thumb trace over the head of Bertie’s cock. Bertie tried to say something, but moaned instead. Reginald watched Bertie splatter his stomach, but kept his hand moving until Bertie’s spasms stopped. 

“Jeeves?” Bertie’s voice was soft, his expression dazed when he looked up to speak. 

“Yes, love?” 

“You’re a natural.” 

“Thank you, I’m sure.” 

“How soon can we do that again?” 

“As I haven’t done it yet, it may be quite a while before I can do it again.” 

“Right! I should help you with that.” 

“I’ve fixed it before, and you seem to need your rest.” 

“Tish, Jeeves!” 

“Tish, Sir?” 

“And tosh, that’s the stuff of nonsense.” 

With a noticeable effort Bertie wrenched his focus to Jeeves. Half of his mouth was curved as Bertie watched Jeeves, his Jeeves, looking so happy. Reginald forgot to notice what he was feeling when a hand that wasn’t his touched his cock. Bertie moved both hands and set to play with enthusiasm. 

It was strange and wonderful, and Reginald still couldn’t believe Bertie would do this for him. He came, and found Bertie cuddled up to him when he came down. Reginald wanted to say something, but a soft murmur had him look to Bertie. The man was asleep, with a huge smile on his face. Jeeves smiled, and pulled Bertie to him. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

A warm softness was the first thing Reginald encountered when he awoke. It was probably his usual time to get up, but nothing was usual about the body so wonderfully draped around him. Poor Bertie needed his sleep, after two weeks in a bathtub to avoid the pea test. Reginald felt guilty about that, since his forgetfulness had caused it. One polite question, all those weeks ago, and even now they could share this bed legitimately. 

Thinking of marriage, propriety and his Uncle, Reginald decided it would be best to see to it that they weren’t caught like this. Reginald did most things for himself, but he still had servants who could come in at any time. His Uncle was the king, which gave him considerable license to enter any room he felt the urge to. 

Carefully, Reginald started to slip out from Bertie, who turned into an octopus when he slept. Either he had grown new limbs overnight, or he replaced one so quickly after Reginald moved it that it amounted to the same thing. Finally sensing an opened, Reginald started to slide out. He stopped when the movement sent a jolt of pain across his stomach. Looking down, it was hard to make out the strange adhesive that had bonded them together. 

“Jeeves?” Reginald looked up, and saw a bleary eyed Bertie. He gave a small grin at the sight, but Bertie’s face blossomed into radiating joy. “I was so scared last night was a dream!” 

“It was just the start of the dream, Bertram.” 

At that, Bertie tried to pull himself up for a kiss. The pain pulling across his stomach stopped him, and he looked down for an explanation. “What’s glued us together?” 

“The evidence that last night was more than wishful thinking.” 

“What? Oh, you mean…” Bertie’s face flushed, informing Reginald that he understood. “Is that normal?” 

“The simple expedience of washing up before falling asleep will prevent it.” 

“Jeeves?” 

“Yes, Bertram?” 

“Wait, do I still call you Jeeves or should it be Prince Reginald?” 

“It might depend on the situation, but I like the way you say Jeeves.” 

“Is it even your name?” 

“Yes, my father’s name. He was a nobleman, who married my mother, Uncle Charlie’s sister.” 

“Jeeves?” 

“Yes, Bertram?” 

“I have to pee.” 

“Ah.” Reginald cringed, but gave voice to their options. “If you do not wish to wait for someone to discover us this way, and I assure you I do not, we will have to free ourselves. Without water in arms reach, that leaves us pulling away from each other forcefully.” 

“Sounds painful.” 

“Most likely, it will be.” 

A heavy sigh seemed to ready Bertie’s nerves, and he yanked himself away. Unprepared, Reginald sucked air in through his teeth. The pain settled into a stinging, and Bertie started to laugh. He quieted after seeing the loving, questioning look Jeeves was sending him. 

“I’m going to write a song, tell the world I’m stuck on you. Nobody will ever figure out its got something to do with literature!” 

“Literal?” 

“Liturgical, because you’re worth any sacrifice.” 

Jeeves thought that deserved a kiss, though he already suspected anything Bertie did would be equally deserving. Rolling over, he gave Bertie a gentle good morning kiss. Minutes later when they pulled apart to breathe, Jeeves found Bertie’s Adam’s apple deserved a kiss for the way it moved when he breathed. Those talented fingers deserved some attention too, as it was their skill that allowed Bertie to travel as a bard. And the cock that sprang to attention so readily, didn’t it deserve a kiss too? A soft kiss to the head and Bertie shouted and arched off the bed. It was a nice view, so Jeeves did it again. 

A kiss on the shaft, a lick, and Bertie was moaning in a way that Jeeves had to hear more of. Using his left hand to hold Bertie’s hips on the bed, Jeeves used his right to stroke the shaft so he could use his mouth on the head of Bertie’s cock. Fluid oozed out, but Jeeves’ tongue found it before his eyes did. Salty, but not revolting, so Jeeves kept at it. Bertie’s moans had turned into words, but nothing articulate enough to suggest Jeeves stop. Jeeves let his right hand slide down to touch Bertie’s eggs, which propelled Bertie into his release. Jeeves gagged a little and swallowed a little, but he’d enjoyed making Bertie fall apart. 

A look showed Bertie’s eyes were still open, but clearly weren’t seeing anything. Reginald reached down and found his own erection, stroking it while he watched Bertie. He wasn’t sure what Bertie wanted with him, but Bertie had wanted Jeeves before he knew of his title. To be wanted for whom he was, it overwhelmed Reginald’s underused emotions. Bertie blinked slowly, as he returned to awareness and his slow smile turned into a quick frown. 

“Jeeves, am I your servant still?” 

“No, you’re my equal, my personal prince.” 

“Then why won’t you let me help you?” 

“You’ve lost me, Sir.” 

“Last night, you tried to talk me out of touching you, and just now you were touching yourself. That’s my job now.” 

Reginald’s hand had stilled during the conversation, but now he removed it. “I merely thought you needed rest, and I enjoyed the view.” 

“Fair’s fair. Do unto others what you want done to yourself and such.” 

“I’m not sure that quote was referencing this situation.” 

Bertie grinned in reply, before moving into position. He started by kissing his way up the shaft, working his way up to the head. Jeeves was about to mention how much better that was than his own hand, when Bertie’s mouth found the tip. The soft lips and swirling tongue melted Reginald’s vocabulary into a shuddering moan. Encouraged, Bertie put both his hands into the effort, until Jeeves saw white with black sparks. When it cleared, he saw a very smug looking Bertie snuggled up to him. After clearing his throat, to make sure his voice would obey his commands, Reginald spoke. 

“My prince, I cede your point. Consider my body yours to do with as you please.” 

“Jolly decent of you to admit that. Now hold still, I’m sleepy.” 

“With regret, I have duties to attend to. You should sleep, it will further the idea that we are observing propriety.” 

“I’d argue, but I’m too tired. I’ll be here when you want to try that again.” 

“Words like that will keep me from ever leaving this bed.” 

“Oh?” It started out as a seductive question, but ended in a yawn. Bertie slapped a hand over the yawn, but Jeeves still smiled at it. 

Kissing Bertie’s forehead kept the kiss from leading to anything more, and Jeeves got to his feet. He returned from the bathroom with a wet cloth and managed to clean Bertie without greatly disturbing him as he drifted off to sleep. After carefully tucking him in, Reginald went to bathe. 

He was shaving, with a towel wrapped around his recently bathed body, when a sleepy Bertie shuffled into the room. Eyes mostly closed, he relieved himself. Jeeves paused in his shaving to watch and compare that body with the one he’d seen that first day. A steady supply of food had filled in some of the harsh edges, but he still had the cutest little bum. Suddenly feeling guilty, though he wasn’t sure why, Reginald went back to his shaving. He listened as Bertie finished and shuffled away, but wasn’t expecting hands to appear on either side of him. Bertie swished his fingers through the sink of water, even as he pressed up against Reginald’s back. 

“I’ve washed my hands, now I have to dry them.” Bertie muttered in Reginald’s ear, before long hands began rubbing him through the towel. 

It was a great display of will power that allowed Reginald to set down the razor, instead of just dropping it and hoping nobody got hurt on the blade. Then he could fully enjoy Bertie nuzzling down his backbone and pulling off the towel, Reginald’s hands gripping the sink with all his strength. When hands on his shoulders suggested he turn, Jeeves did just that. Bertie’s eyes were still mostly closed, but for an entirely different reason than sleepiness. 

“You’re insatiable!” 

“No, I’m logical. I need sleep. I need you.” Even if Bertie hadn’t taken him in hand just then, that comment would have brought Jeeves to full hardness. “Therefore, I need you to sleep beside me. If I tire you out, you’ll stay with me, which is what I need. Logical, right?” 

“I can’t argue with you.” Jeeves said, and he meant it. Reginald might have been able to point out flaws in causality logic, but Jeeves did whatever it took to make Bertie happy. Besides, the kisses trailing down his throat moved onto his chest, and found a nipple. 

Seeing Jeeves response to that, Bertie logically focused his attention on it. Soon, he began to move between the two nipples, as his hand worked Jeeves’ cock. A gentle, experimental bite on the left nipple brought Jeeves away from the sink as he came in Bertie’s hand. Smug Bertie was back and washing them up while Jeeves recovered. 

“You ready to be my pillow now?” 

“When you ask like that, I can’t resist you.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” This ended with another yawn, so Jeeves lead him to the bed. Once Bertie was comfortable, seeming to have grown extra limbs solely to hold onto Jeeves, he fell asleep. Reginald expected to use the time to plan the wedding, but as soon as he was aware that Bertie was deeply asleep, Reginald slept as well. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

The knock on the door startled them both awake, and they broke apart with guilty expressions. Reginald’s name was called, and Bertie turned crimson before diving over the side of the bed. Reginald was forced away from watching the way the blush had been creeping down Bertie’s neck and toward his chest by that maneuver. With a sigh, he got up and found his dressing gown. Covered, he opened the door for his uncle, and stepped to the side away from the bed. If his uncle looked at him, he might not notice the messy sheets, or think Bertie was using the bed to hide from view. 

“Reginald, the only time it’s expected for royalty to shirk their duties is during the honeymoon. I’m sure you just had a long day yesterday and needed a rest this morning. You’re not shirking, are you?” 

“No Sir, I simply overslept. Thank you for waking me, and I will be down momentarily.” 

“Anatole and I have finished the menu, but we’ve got to make sure none of the nobles are snubbed on the guest list. I need your memory for details like that, and I need to know about anybody Bertie wants there. Lunch is in an hour, be there.” 

“Yes, Sir.” Reginald gave a bow, and hoped that would be the end of it. Uncle Charley looked over to the bed and raised his voice. 

“You’ll be there too, Bertie?” 

There was a moment’s hesitation before Bertie answered, and Jeeves wondered just how far down he’d blushed then. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Don’t disappoint me, gentlemen.” A turn and King Charles was gone. 

Reginald shut the door behind him and sighed. Bertie’s head popped up and peered at him from across the mattress. 

“I wish my Aunts were as kind and understanding as your Uncle!” Bertie had made only passing references to his extended family before, but few of those comments had been positive. 

“It’s not the same, but after the wedding he will be your uncle.” 

“That’s a charming thought, but I hope you never have to meet your aunts by marriage!” 

“Will you behave long enough that we can make ourselves presentable before lunch?” 

“I suppose, but only because I’m starving.” 

Jeeves was hungry as well, but still spent several minutes exerting his will. Had to step back from kisses on the cheek that wanted to turn into more. Had to pull skilled hands away from sensitive skin that wanted to be stroked. Had to use the promise of food to get Bertie into clothes, and the threat of Uncle Charles to get him out the door. But it was the promise of ‘tonight’ that had Bertie on his best behavior during lunch, and smirking all the next day. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

With considerable effort, Reginald and Bertie found a routine that worked for them. Early riser Reginald would do the bulk of his duties before lunch. He’d wake Bertie with a cup of tea, as far as the rest of the world was concerned. A quick wrestling match in the bed wasn’t the kind of thing Reginald would discuss with anybody but Bertie, who already knew. They would come down to lunch together, even though Bertie’s room was in the west wing of the castle. 

That wing was normally closed down as unnecessary, but it was being cleaned and opened for the wedding guests. Bertie even had clothes in that room, though his musical instrument and wooden duck were in Reginald’s room. If the clothes the tailor made for Bertie were put into Reginald’s room, that was merely to save the effort of transferring them after the wedding. 

Afternoons were spent much as they had been before the arrival of Anatole, with the addition of them disappearing into Reginald’s rooms for a while. Dressing for dinner suddenly became difficult, often taking them an hour or so. Two bodies so attracted to each other simply couldn’t bare skin in the same suite of rooms without touching, no matter how big the rooms. 

Bertie happily played music for them after supper, as he loved to play. But Jeeves would twitch an eyebrow at him, and Bertie would finish his current song at a record pace. He’d offer his goodnights, and Reginald would do the same, exactly five minutes later. Nobody was fooled, but they couldn’t prove anything either. 

The afternoon before the wedding, Bertie was composing his song about being stuck on Jeeves. He didn’t tell Jeeves that, instead he’d asked for a detailed explanation of what Jeeves was working on. Jeeves had taken off his coat and rolled up his sleeves, so he wouldn’t get ink on his finery as he drew plans for his idea. Bertie had only absorbed the idea about using waterwheels to bring light into a room at night in some complex way before he feel into the music of Jeeves’ voice. It was washing over him, filling him with music he hurried to write down, when a jarring note split his concentration. 

“Bertie,” this cry snapped his fountain pen. 

“Wilberforce,” his middle name in that voice sent him skywards. 

“Wooster!” Gravity and the piano bench conspired against him, and he sprawled over the upturned bench and the floor. Looking up was more painful than the fall, as he looked up into the face of a short, angry woman. Movement beside her attracted his attention, beautiful Jeeves coming to rescue him! 

“Sir, are you injured?” It was funny how Jeeves got formal at the oddest times, but the presence of the woman killed the laugh in his throat. A quick shift of his eyes showed she was defiantly there, and angry at him as usual. Worried, formal Jeeves was checking him for injury, and Bertie let him, needing the loving touch. 

“He’s fine! The fool is always tripping over something, he’s immune.” 

Jeeves could see the change in Bertie the pudgy woman was causing, and he didn’t like it. Bertie was turning into a scared kid, his happy nature and easy smile sinking behind worried eyes. A possessive need to protect Bertie turned Reginald’s gaze into something predatory. 

Bertie saw the change, and reached out to calm Jeeves. Bertie was too nice to let Jeeves’ full heart and mind lose on any unsuspecting prey, no matter how sharp the teeth of said prey. 

“I’m good, just surprised. She’s right, my hard head’s taken worse knocks.” Bertie tried to smile, but knew it didn’t reach his eyes when Jeeves’ gaze got even sharper. 

“Told you so.” The woman sniffed, as if offended by Jeeves’ need to check Bertie for injuries. “Now go fetch your betters, I need to be properly introduced. That incompetent doorman showed me in here when I asked to see the prince, like I couldn’t have found this blight on my own!” 

“Madam,” Jeeves began, but Bertie’s hand squeezed his arm. 

“Really Jeeves, I’m in tip top shape. Go see what’s keeping King Charles, I’m sure Cuthbert went to get him.” 

“Sir,” and a tighter squeeze stopped Jeeves’ words. Anything for Bertie, and Bertie seemed to want something. 

“Please go, I need to speak with my Aunt Agatha.” 

“Let me help you to your feet, Sir, before I go.” Jeeves got Bertie to his feet, and seated in one of the large chairs in the room before he finally took his leave. He didn’t expect Bertie to change his mind, but neither did he want to leave Bertie alone with this woman. Agatha tapped her foot and glared at him from the chair she had claimed, waiting for him to leave. Grabbing his jacket, Jeeves bowed to Bertie. “Please ring if you require anything, Sir.” 

Turning, Jeeves was blocked from leaving by a woman standing in the door. Her eyes gazed at some distant point, and Jeeves resisted the urge to turn and look at what she was seeing. He knew the room too well, though, and there wasn’t anything to see three inches below the ceiling. Stepping around her allowed Jeeves the opportunity to observe her. She had a pretty profile, but didn’t even seem smart enough to notice him there. 

Bertie was right, Cuthbert was an excellent head butler and would have went to inform the king of their visitors. He made for the hallway, knowing that listening at keyholes was beneath him. Instead, he didn’t close the door all the way, as he waited in the hallway for his uncle. The words that drifted out to him were simply beyond his ability to stop hearing. 

“Bertie, do you remember that strange man who bred those silly looking dogs with all the extra skin?” 

“I remember lots of strange men with extra skin, often filled with the remains of too much ale.” 

“Don’t be stupid, the dogs had all that flappy skin.” 

“Right, French sounding name. Basenji or something.” 

“Bassett. Turns out to be a lot of money in floppy dogs, and he wants to use that money to get his daughter a social advantageous marriage.” 

“Oh, that will be nice for some young lad, a girl that comes with a dog farm.” 

“Yes, you. This is Madeline Bassett, you fiancé.” 

“What? I’ve got a fiancé!” 

“So I was told on the ocean voyage over. I will not allow this absurdity, Bertie, which you should know.” 

“I’ve abdicated the throne, so I won’t advance her social calendar.” 

“You’ll move in with me after the wedding, and I’ll see to it that her and her father are happy with the arraignment.” 

“What about this kingdom?” 

“It’s not your kingdom, so stop thinking about it.” 

“But what about me?” 

“What about you? I’m seeing to your future, since you took the one I planned for you and threw it in my face.” 

“It was best for the kingdom for me to give it up! I only accepted his proposal because he’s so smart that he can fix my mistakes. Just talk to him, give him a chance and you’ll understand…”

“Understand? You think he completes you, or some such romantic twaddle that makes you sound like a child. You’re royalty, and you’ll marry for your kingdom. There are some financial troubles at home, and your marriage to Madeline with fix them. So end this farce with this prince, and come home.” 

“This is my prince charming?” A new voice entered the conversation, a dazed, little girl voice that could only belong to the woman Madeline. “Pretty, but I don’t see him rescuing me from a tall tower.” 

“What?” Bertie’s confusion echoed Jeeves’. Surely he heard that wrong. 

“Can we rent a dragon for you to fight? I don’t think you truly love me.” 

“I haven’t even met you!” 

“No matter, plenty of time for that after we get married.” 

A strangled moan from Bertie curled Jeeves’ large hands into fists. The sight of his Uncle Charlie turning into the grand hallway was the only thing that kept Jeeves from storming into the room and rescuing his dear one in distress. Long legs brought Reginald quickly to his Uncle’s side, so he could speak quietly to him. 

“Bertie’s Aunt Agatha is trying to marry him to a woman, an insane woman who thinks this is her fairy tale.” 

“Silly girl. I’ll be sure and tell her it’s your fairy tale.” 

“That’s not what I meant, Uncle.” 

“You still want Bertie, even though you’ve tasted the goods?” 

“Uncle!” 

“A joke Reginald, I know you love him. I’ll see what I can do, but if he decides to go with her, there’s not much we can do.” 

“She’s cheating, claiming they need this marriage to solve a financial crisis.” 

“Then level the playing field.” King Charles said this with a shrug, before turning into the sitting room. Jeeves was careful to stay far enough back that she couldn’t see him, wanting to hear her words to the king. 

Instead a dazed looking Bertie was sent out of the room, told to pack his things. His eyes slid over the crowd of servants that had followed King Charles to stop when he saw Jeeves. Grabbing his arm, Bertie dragged Jeeves down the hall and into the library. 

Prince Reginald had a vast library, but inside the door was a chair and desk. After dark, a lantern was placed on the desk so anybody looking for a book would have a light source. For now, Jeeves let Bertie push him into the chair. With the door closed and the only source of light being the lantern beside them, Jeeves felt alone enough to talk privately. Bertie placed a hand on each armrest and leaned down to speak to Jeeves. 

“She’s my family, I can’t fight her. I never could, I had to leave to have any chance at happiness. Now she’s tracked me down, to rule over me again.” 

“Bertram, love, family is important, but you’re important too.” 

“You’ll fight her for me, let me be part of your family?” 

“Nothing will stop me from making you happy.” 

“You can’t hurt her, physically, that’s not up to my code. Just think up a way to keep me here!” 

“I will! I’ve waited my whole life for you; I’m not giving you up.” 

“Jeeves, I, don’t deserve but you give.” Stopping his rant to rub at his face, it was a very together Bertie who looked down at Jeeves a moment later. “Close your eyes and lean back. I need to do something to make myself feel better.” 

Jeeves complied, stretching out in the chair and licking his lips for the kiss he expected. Closing his eyes and angling his head, Jeeves waited, until Bertie’s hands on his thighs made him jump. Eyes open, Jeeves reached to stop Bertie’s hands from opening his pants. 

“The door’s not locked, anybody could come in!” 

“Tough. I need this, please Jeeves.” 

The need in Bertie’s voice wasn’t an ignorable, lustful need, and who really used the library this late in the day anyway? Moving his hands to dangle outside the chair was Jeeves’ sign of acquiescing to Bertie’s need. In the soft glow of the lantern, Bertie’s head disappeared when he took Jeeves’ cock into his mouth, which helped convince Jeeves to enjoy the situation. They’d both come to love this activity, especially the part where they made the other lose all control. 

Bertie was creative and unpredictable, but Jeeves had the strangest sensation tonight. It wasn’t a good feeling, it was as if Bertie was getting in a last taste before being dragged away. Jeeves wouldn’t let that happen, but until he figured out how to stop it he was going to give Bertie as much pleasure as he could. Though, the opening door wasn’t giving Jeeves any pleasure. Blinking into the bright light from the hallway, Reginald rested his hands on Bertie’s shoulders to stop him from bobbing up and down. 

“My Prince,” the words came with a bow, but the voice allowed Reginald to identify Cuthbert as the speaker. “The King has invited Lady Worplesdon to stay the night, but was unsure of what room to provide her. I can put her and the young lady in the west wing, but if they stay for the wedding this may upset your arraignments.” 

Cuthbert spoke some more, but Jeeves was fighting down moans. At the sound of his aunt’s name, Bertie had sucked in a breath. The sensation had curled Jeeves’ toes and his fingers had dug into whatever part of Bertie he was holding. It had only taken Bertie a few seconds to understand Jeeves’ reaction was one of pleasure. Now his head was perfectly still, as Jeeves wanted, but Bertie was driving him insane by quietly sucking at his cock. Cuthbert finally stopped talking, and Reginald responded. 

“Well reasoned, rooms in the west wing will work. We’ll con, con-consider the other stuff later.” 

Cuthbert was probably more confused by his Prince’s declining vocabulary than his sudden stutter, but he had permission to get to work. “I will see to it, Sir.” 

“Thanks you, Cuthbert!” Jeeves voice jumped a register on the man’s name, but the bowing servant didn’t seem to notice. Backing away and closing the door behind him, Cuthbert went to work. Jeeves looked down at his lap, where a pair of bright blue eyes were just high enough to catch the lantern light. His cock was still in Bertie’s mouth, and the sight was almost enough to finish him. “Insatiable monster!” 

Jeeves had to fight to get the words out, and Bertie laughed. The feeling of that laugh vibrating around his cock sent Jeeves into a powerful, mind wiping orgasm. When he filtered back into his body, he was back in his pants and Bertie was using him as a chair. Bertie’s back fit snuggly against Jeeves’ chest, and his head rested perfectly on Jeeves right shoulder. Jeeves slid his arms around Bertie, and after a quick press to see if Bertie was aroused, Jeeves hugged his distressed lover. 

“Jeeves, if my kingdom really is in trouble, I have to help.” 

The statement made Jeeves love Bertie even more, and silently swear to keep himself near Bertie. Even if he had to sell the castle, abandon the throne and serve as Bertie’s manservant, they’d never be separated. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Regretfully, Jeeves had to persuade Bertie to dress and attend supper with his Aunt. This was even harder to do when Bertie realized Jeeves wouldn’t be doing the same. Jeeves swore he would use the time to find a solution, but Bertie countered with hiding in their room. Promising a night of debauchery for the man brave enough to sup with his enemy was the only way to get Bertie to agree. Jeeves would greatly enjoy fulfilling that pledge, but he still felt guilty. Bertie was going to this meal as a distraction, but Jeeves still felt he was sacrificing Bertie. 

Jeeves changed into his work clothes and went to mingle with the servants. Then he used his disguise to find out about the women who’d just turned his world upside down. Lady Worplesdon even passed him as he helped carry her luggage into a room, but took no notice of him. 

By the time she went to eat, Jeeves had enough information to form a profile of her, and a plan. He needed an assistant for his plan, and set out to find the one he had in mind. She’d been assigned as Madeline’s chambermaid, and was in Madeline’s room when Jeeves entered. She looked up from turning down the bedcovers, at a loss about what to do with her prince in the room. 

“Annis, I need your help.” 

“Anything, sir, or your highness.” Annis was quick to reply, but unsure as to whom she spoke. 

“Jeeves will work for tonight. I’m sure you’ve heard of the situation that’s arisen?” 

“Yes, um, Jeeves. Bertie’s aunt wants him to marry the fool in this room.” Annoyance turned into fear, as Annis realized she’d just spoken her mind about a social superior. “Oh, I’m sure she’s wonderful once you get to know her!” 

“No, she’s a fool. But she did remind me of something important. After all, what fairy tale doesn’t have a monster in it?” 

“Sir?” 

“I’ll explain shortly. But this is not part of your normal duties, and you don’t have to help me.” 

“Sir, we all love Bertie too, and want him to stay.” Annis was a sturdy woman, physically suited to the work she did but her mind was as quick as Jeeves had hoped. Without help, she’d figured out that what he was about to do was to keep Bertie with him. 

“I’m gratified to hear it, but I’ll find a way to reward you. If you’re done here, we should go somewhere private to plan.” 

Annis took a good look around the room, checking off her duties in her mind. With a nod, she turned to Jeeves. “I’m ready, Sir.” 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Jeeves left Annis giggling about her part in the evening’s activity and went to find one of his knights. Those details taken care of, Jeeves went into the kitchen to get some supper of his own. The main meal was over, so only the people tasked with cleaning were still around. There was a somber atmosphere in the kitchen, as no music drifted in from the piano. Jeeves tried to eat, but had no appetite. He pushed his food around and sipped his wine, until Connla came to refill it for him. She gave him a shy smile and Jeeves thought of a present for Annis. 

“Connla, please sit with me for a moment.” The young woman was startled, but did as he asked. Her fingers nervously played with the wine bottle, but Jeeves refrained from making her stop. “Tell me, honestly, how the people of the kingdom feel about me marrying a man? You will not be punished or fired for your honest opinion.” 

“I didn’t think that, you’re too just, your highness. I’m just not sure how to answer. Some are angry, some disgusted. But most, I think, are happy you’ve found love.” 

“Do you think it’s disgusting?” Connla flushed, and looked down at the tabletop, but not before he saw the anger in her eyes. Jeeves was strongly reminded of Bertie, hiding a truth he was afraid of. “You think it’s something you’d be interested in, with another woman.” 

“Well, if two guys can do it, why not two women?” Flushing and embarrassed, Connla looked up at him with defiant eyes. Jeeves gave her a slow nod. 

“You can. Things will be worse for you, as you don’t have the protection of rank or money as I do, but you can do it.” She blinked at him and Jeeves continued. “I’ve seen the way Annis looks at you, but she’s seen the way the men look at you. You’re very beautiful and she doesn’t think you’d consider her as more than a friend.” 

“Annis has such terrible self esteem, but she’s so smart and funny! I bet, if I told her I loved her, she’d try to talk me out of it!” 

“As my uncle told me, level the playing field. Be ready for her comments with convincing kisses, or whatever it takes.” 

Connla’s knuckles were white from her grip on the wine bottle, but she radiated hope. “Are you sure she wants me?” 

“Very sure. She’s far too clever to lie about what’s in her heart. Annis will try and distract you, but she won’t lie.” 

Connla threw her arms around Jeeves but the hug only lasted long enough for her to realize who she was hugging. Embarrassed, she pulled away and waited for a reprimand. A servant with a tray of empty glasses entered the kitchen, distracting Jeeves from reassuring her. 

The servants were clearing up the sitting room, so the last of the guests had gone to bed. It was time for his plan. Grabbing as much garlic as he could, Jeeves took the servant’s stairs to Madeline’s room. A clear knock and he waited for Annis to open the door. Madeline was still dressed, even with four servants in the room to help her undress. Jeeves bowed humbly. 

“Forgive me, M’lady. Your arrival was unexpected, so we had to send out for the necessary supplies.” 

“Supplies? Everything’s been wonderful and I haven’t missed anything. Except fairy rings. I’d really hoped to be able to see fairy rings from my window seat.” 

Jeeves refrained from pointing out it was the wrong season for mushrooms to make fairy rings and that the room didn’t have a window seat. He straightened and spoke, brandishing the garlic in his hand to help keep Madeline’s interest. 

“It is not a story we like to tell, but a golem haunts this kingdom. He seeks fair maidens, such as yourself, to drag away to his lair.” 

“He does unspeakable things to maidens there! You should stop this creature!” 

“I fear, M’lady, that when I spoke of this to Prince Bertie, he scoffed at me.” Jeeves knew he should have said Bertram, but was afraid Madeline would be confused as to who he was talking about if he did so. 

“Scoffed? Surely not!” This idea was so scandalous that Madeline had to cover her mouth with her hands. 

“He said it was ever so much nonsense, as were all fairy tales.” 

“How dare he! Has his small soul no room for the love we must share in our tale?” 

“I believe his soul has no romance at all within it.” Of all the lies Jeeves had said so far, this one was the hardest. Bertie’s soul had so much love and romance it had overflowed into Jeeves’ empty life. 

“Perhaps it is my destiny to free Prince Reginald from the thrall of evil Bertie.” 

A frightening concept that Reginald hadn’t considered, but he was a quick thinker. “M’lady, I would not see you wasted on such a man! It is rumored that he is the very golem that stalks maidens, which is why he has not married yet. For such a creature to be joined with a soulless brute, would be the most fitting of punishments, would it not?” 

“The fates do use us cruelly, wrapping us together as daisies in a chain!” 

Jeeves froze, and took a moment to recover from that statement. 

Madeline didn’t seem to notice and finally drifted back in from her own little world. “Perhaps the fates have saved me from both horrors, provided they do not seek me out this night. But how shall I defend against this monster, whoever he may be?” 

“I have the answer, M’lady. Strings of garlic, scattered throughout the room will ward off the golem. Do I have your permission to hang them?” 

“Oh, yes, I must stay safe from this beast! Perhaps the fates are not as cruel as I think, and will send my true love to rescue me from this accursed isle.” 

Jeeves pretended his face had been stuffed, so he was incapable of showing how stupid he found this conversation. Annis was better at hiding her reactions, but her eyes were still dancing with mischief when she stood before him. 

“Sir, let me help you hang those.” 

“Thank you, young lady.” 

Quickly, they hung garlic on bedposts and doorknobs. Closing the windows, the garlic was tied across the knobs, all to protect Madeline. She was effectively cut off from the fresh spring air and the smell would only increase the protection it offered from the creature. Not that Madeline thought to ask, but the excuse was ready. Jeeves just expected the smell to add to the confusion later. When the strands ran out, Jeeves bowed and took his leave. 

As the door closed behind him, he could hear Madeline’s servants confirming his words, telling Madeline the awful stories they’d heard. None of these stories had been heard before tonight, but they were too awful not to be true. Annis would find duties to keep her Madeline’s room, ready to embellish the story she’d carefully planted among the visiting servants during supper. 

The knight in the hallway didn’t recognize his prince until Jeeves spoke. He snapped to attention in embarrassment and Jeeves had to reiterate his order to stand guard at Madeline’s door. At last, Jeeves was ready to go cheer up Bertie. 

While he couldn’t let himself run to his rooms, Jeeves certainly got there as quickly as he could. Servants had come and lit lanterns, but it took Jeeves a moment to find Bertie. Jeeves expected a Bertie in need of the physical assurance he had enjoyed in the library, or awaiting the promised reward for going to supper. Instead, Bertie was sitting on the balcony, hugging his guitar and staring into the distance. Bertie seemed so still and dejected that it tore at Jeeves’ heart. Sitting beside him, Jeeves set the guitar aside and pulled Bertie to him. 

“My love, I’m fixing this, as I promised.” 

Bertie snuggled into him and spoke to his chest. “Jeeves, at supper, she was going on and on about starving kids begging in the streets and low rainfall threatening the crops. Then she’d look at Madeline, who must have been conversing with fairies or something, as if to say my marriage to that woman was the only thing that would fix it. I’m so sorry, but I’ll have to go help them, however I can.” 

“Bertie, I’d go with you if you left here, as you asked. But as much as I would not normally speak ill of guests, I must tell you Lady Worplesdon is lying to you.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely. I’ve spoken with the servants and the guards she brought with her. People too unimportant for a prince to speak with or trust, to her way of thinking. You kingdom is fine, and your sister is a wise ruler.” 

“She’s doing well? I left her in charge, so it would be my fault if she didn’t do well.” 

“She is deserving of your faith. She’s talked her husband into letting her deal with certain things, while he handles things better suited to his skills. Recently, she had a third daughter, and started arguing with Lady Worplesdon about how to raise them.” 

“That sounds like her, she was always so much better at standing up to our aunts!” 

“It was suggested that any of your aunts who disagreed with the way she was raising her children could find themselves a new place to live. Lady Worplesdon selected a piece of land, owned by Madeline’s father. He is to start building the estate while she tracks you down to marry Madeline.” 

“That’s horrible! Making me marry the ditzy dreamer so she doesn’t have to pay rent! And poor Madeline’s completely convinced it’s true love, so even if I talk Aunt A out of this, Madeline will still expect me to marry her.” 

“That was the conclusion I came to, so let me tell you of my plan.” 

“You’ve already found a solution and set it into motion? You’re a marvel!” 

“Because of you. Never before would I have tried to influence situations, but you’ve inspired me to fix more than machines.” 

“So, you’re my marvel?” 

“Absolutely, as you are mine. My plan,” would work without Bertie knowing about it. Jeeves decided this, because a very insistent pair of lips had cut off his ability to speak. Octopus Bertie, who seemed to be able to touch him everywhere at once, cut of his desire to speak. Jeeves replied by pulling off their clothes at an impressive rate. 

Jeeves tried to kiss his way down naked Bertie, to give back a little of what he’d gotten in the library, but Bertie wouldn’t stop kissing him long enough. Suddenly, Jeeves understood the problem, Bertie’s strange desperation. He believed Jeeves would fix everything, but he was still very worried that something terrible would separate them. 

Jeeves let Bertie set the pace and direction, waited until Bertie wordlessly told him kissing and friction weren’t enough. Jeeves aligned them and wrapped a hand around both their cocks. Bertie growled, but seemed unwilling to finish. Another jolt of understanding, and Jeeves started crushing his need to be in control. Because he felt Bertie needed it, Jeeves was able to fall into the sensations, revel in the feeling of Bertie’s desire. As Bertie wanted, Jeeves came first with his lover’s name tumbling off his lips. At last, Bertie was able to finish, having pleased his marvel. 

Curled together on the balcony, they stroked and loved each other without words. Jeeves made sure to rearrange them often enough that they didn’t dry together like before, but otherwise let Bertie have what he wanted. A chill breeze on his backside pulled Jeeves from a light doze, to gaze down at Bertie snuggled into his arms. Forcing himself to look at other things, like the moon, Jeeves decided it was time for his plan. The night was so still that Jeeves could believe Bertie and him were the only two beings in existence. 

For the sake of making this heaven permanent, Jeeves extracted himself from Bertie. After a quick washing up, he put on pajamas and a dressing gown, before repeating these actions on Bertie. He grumbled and was reluctant to wake, but Bertie eventually was aware enough to be told of his part in the plan. 

“Bertie, do you remember that strange sound you made on your guitar the other day?” 

“According to Aunt A, all I make is strange sounds.” 

“You were accompanying one of Anatole’s stories about hunting the perfect meat for his creations, and you made the guitar growl.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s easy.” 

“Good. I need you to come with me, and make that sound again.” 

“Now? But I want to sleep.” 

“Now Bertie, otherwise the guests that arrive in a few hours will see your wedding to Madeline.” 

“Now is good! Lead the way.” 

A thorough kiss took away the sting of Jeeves’ threat, and Bertie kept an arm around Jeeves waist as they left the room. The other arm cradled Bertie’s guitar, a gift from his father. Jeeves couldn’t help but hope Bertie’s parents would approve of their love, and using the guitar in the plan would be a blessing from them. Shaking the sentimental notion out of his head, Jeeves lead Bertie into a guest room with one lit lantern set out. 

One floor below Madeline’s room, Bertie leaned out of the window and made his guitar growl as loud as he could. It echoed across the garden, and into Madeline closed windows. Madeline’s scream showed it had been loud enough and very effective. There was yelling, another scream and the sound of her door being broken down. Jeeves’ handpicked knight doing his duty, protecting the fair maiden from monsters in the night. She screamed again and he had to shout her down. 

“Fear not, I have come to protect you!” 

“You have?” 

“Yes, beautiful child. I would give my life to defend your honor!” 

“Oh, my knight in shining armor!” 

“What is going on here?” Lady Worplesdon’s angry shout, disturbed what could have been a beautiful love scene. The knight began to explain and Jeeves pulled Bertie into the room and toward the door. 

“Go to them, act as if you are completely unconcerned. I’ll be there shortly, leave the guitar.” 

A quick kiss, and Bertie did as he was told, completely trusting his lover. Jeeves tried not to pace as he waited, instead he placed the guitar on the bed and moved to the window. Bertie arrived upstairs and announced himself. 

“What, ho now? Why are all of you screaming and such?” 

“Bertie, what is this nonsense about golems?” 

“It’s nonsense, as you said.” 

“It’s true!” Aghast at her fiancé’s apparent disinterest in romance, Madeline was paying attention to the real world. “Your soul is unrefined, and I shall not marry you. This handsome knight, who came to my aid, is the husband the fates have decreed for me!” 

“Oh, you beautiful creature!” The knight was doing his job perfectly, but only because he wasn’t in on the plan. Jeeves knew the man well enough to know he’d have messed up if he’d been aware of his role, even if their conversation earlier had shown he was smitten with Madeline’s looks. “I would love you truly, but I am not worthy of you.” 

“Your fair deeds have won my heart, what more worth do you need?” 

“Madeline, enough foolishness! You are marrying Bertie, my blight of a nephew, it’s all arranged.” 

“Don’t drag me into this, Aunt A! At least, not anymore than you already have.” 

“Sir Roderick.” King Charles voice cut across the conversation, and Jeeves knew it was time for him to make his entrance. “What is the meaning of all this?” 

Roderick Spode must have stumbled through some sort of explanation, which had quickly dissolved into a shouting match. Aunt Agatha was winning on volume, but Madeline nullified that by simply not listening. Their voices covered up the sound of the crowd waiting in the hallway, even as Jeeves gently made his way through them. Jeeves almost smiled when he looked into Madeline’s room. 

Annis was there, managing to keep calm in the emergency. Actually, she was managing not to laugh, but had made sure Madeline was covered with her dressing gown as soon as possible. Bertie was sitting in a chair by the unused fireplace, effectively conveying the idea he would fall asleep the instant they stopped making so much noise. King Charles was secretly watching Bertie, knowing something was going on here. When Jeeves gave a soft cough at a lull in the shouting, Uncle Charlie knew he was right. Every head turned to glare at Jeeves, but all he cared about was the amusement in Bertie’s eyes. 

“Forgive the intrusion, but I believe I have a solution.” Everybody paused, and even the servants in the hall waited on his words. Jeeves looked at people as he talked to them, but all he really saw was his future with Bertie. “If Sir Roderick was made the ambassador to Yaxley, he would have the position and security to care for his true love.” 

“Roderick, we are meant to be together!” 

“Lady Madeline, the decision belongs to my king, but I would love you forever even if you married another!” 

“Sir Roderick, kneel before me and give me your sword.” As Roderick did as commanded, King Charles turned to wink at Jeeves. He got a small nod in return, as both were please to get rid of Roderick. 

He’d been knighted for services to Charles’ father, but had only gotten greedier as time went by. Despite the mocking of the common people, Roderick still sought a revolution that would put him in power. An ambassador’s post, a new kingdom and a new, young wife should keep him out of everybody’s hair for a while. 

“Sir Roderick, I, King Charles the fourth, hereby appoint you my representative to the kingdom of Yaxley.” 

The brief but formal sounding ceremony was over and Charles gave Roderick back his sword. Roderick stood, only to turn and kneel before Madeline. “M’lady, as ambassador to Yaxley, I ask for your hand. I am not the prince you deserve, but I have loved you in the small time I’ve known you.” 

“Love me forever, and I will be yours forever.” Madeline held out her hand for Roderick to kiss, and as he did so Lady Worplesdon found her voice. She’d lost this fight, but Bertie could still be of use to her. There were other women, richer women, who would see the advantage of marrying into the royal family. 

“That’s wonderful, but Bertie has obligations back home!” 

“True, madam, but he serves them best by being here.” Jeeves calm voice was soothing after her strident tones, to everyone but Lady Worplesdon. She refused to look at Jeeves, the servant who dared defy her. 

“King Charles, are you going to let him talk to me this way?” 

If Lady Worplesdon expected sympathy from King Charles, Jeeves thought, she should have behaved better around the king. As it was, King Charles tossed an amused glance at Jeeves before replying. 

“As he is one of the soundest advisors I’ve ever had, yes, I’m going to let him speak.” 

Her shock kept her silent long enough for Jeeves to speak again. 

“Yaxley is a decent sized kingdom, rich in hardwoods. Our island kingdom is often short of wood, as we make ships to defend our shores, but we have vast supplies of minerals. Prince Bertram offered to negotiate trade for these items, but held no official position from which to do so, having abdicated the throne. He needed a position of equal power, but with ties to both kingdoms.” Here, Jeeves felt allowed to look at Bertie, who looked so please he must have been thinking back to the encounter in the library. Jeeves wrenched his eyes away to keep his mind on track; it was time to take away Agatha’s ability to manipulate Bertie. “This alliance will allow both kingdoms to prosper, more so than a marriage for a quick influx of gold.” 

Agatha seemed to wobble, and Annis was on hand to get her to a chair before she collapsed. Now, any objections to the marriage could be seen as an act of war, and Jeeves would happily toss Agatha into the dungeon. Jeeves was careful not to look as if he was gloating, but he had just won Bertie. Except, he couldn’t really win a person, so much as the right to marry them, but first it was important to understand who you were marrying. Bertie had slipped out of his chair to kneel before his aunt and console her, the woman who worked so hard to destroy his happiness. 

“It’s all for the good, Aunt Agatha. People will see it as a political alliance and no shame will fall on Yaxley. I know Aunt Dahlia can shout you down, and is probably the only one who can, but she’ll take you in! Think of all the fun you’ll have arguing with each other, just like when you were girls.” 

Reginald’s pride over his plan evaporated as Bertie continued. From now on, he’d run all his plans by Bertie to make sure nobody was hurt unnecessarily. A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts and Reginald looked at his uncle. 

“You know our folklore and traditions, so back to your room.” 

Even Jeeves’ agile mind took a few seconds to understand what his uncle was talking about, and then find a rebuttal. “But Sir, that tradition is hardly applicable. Besides, I need him.” 

“I know, but I want you to do this.” 

“May I explain it to him?” 

“No, I’ll do that. Now go, and clear out the crowd in the hall.” 

“Yes, Sir.” A small bow, and Reginald went to speak with the crowd. He waited as long as he could, but Uncle Charlie kept Bertie in Madeline’s room. Hiding his annoyance, Reginald worked on figuring out how to change a superstition as he went back to his room alone. Could he convince his people that it was bad luck to see the intended in their trousseau before the actual wedding? Because this having to avoid each other for the entire day of the wedding was preposterous.

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

The next day, guests arrived and the whole castle buzzed with activity, except in Jeeves’ room. Reginald flitted from project to project, unable to focus and rather humiliated at being confined to his room. All of Bertie’s things, except for his clothes for the wedding and what he was wearing right now, were put into Reginald’s rooms. Annis had retrieved the guitar and put it in his room last night, so the only thing missing was Bertie. 

Jeeves nibbled at the food that was brought, and considered ways of getting around the ceremonial guard at his door. A long soak in the tub and a slow, careful shave still had Jeeves dressed and ready to go an hour before they came for him. He didn’t put on his coat yet, because it was so long that sitting in it would wrinkle the material. 

Not that he sat after all, finally giving in to the urge to pace. Did this tradition work up all the grooms, make them physically need to see the one they loved again? Probably not, as Jeeves considered what he’d be thinking about if it was someone he didn’t want to marry. Like Anatole. The temperamental chef was a friend now, who had taught the cooks a great deal. But if Jeeves had to marry him, this time alone would have him thinking about escape. And what was Bertie doing now? Surely they hadn’t left him alone with his aunt, who might even now be talking him into letting her stay in the castle forever. 

“Reginald!” Jeeves turned and focused on his uncle before the man’s presence even fully penetrated his thought process. “That’s a beautiful shirt, the blue really suits you.” 

“It was the closest color the tailor had, to matching Bertie’s eyes.” 

“He suits you too, so put on your coat and marry him.” Uncle Charlie shook out the coat and helped Jeeves into it. Jeeves was grateful; as he was so excited he’d probably rip the dark green material. “I didn’t want you spending time with Bertie today, because his Aunt would see it was more than politics that brought you together.” 

“It’s been a hard day, but I accept your reasoning.” 

Uncle Charlie turned away, but was stopped by Reginald’s hand on his shoulder. He turned to see a strange sight, Reginald looking bashful. 

“Uncle, for all you’ve done for me, for allowing me to love Bertie especially, I can’t thank you enough.” 

“Sure you can! Adopt some kids before I die.” Uncle Charlie barely heard Reginald’s reply over his good natured laugh. 

“Kids?” 

When a hand on his arm was required to propel him into the hallway, Reginald considered there was one aspect of marriage he hadn’t considered yet. He would think on that later, but for now he hurried to the chapel. They had planned on a few changes, since there wasn’t a traditional bride to walk down the center of the chapel. 

Jeeves had teased Bertie about putting him into a dress and Bertie had turned it into a challenge. His growl of ‘I will if you will’ had left a pile of clothes topped by a pair of torn underwear on the floor. Jeeves hid his grin at the memory, and looked out at the crowd. Madeline and Roderick were oblivious to the rest of the world, as usual, but together in their own little world. Lady Worplesdon was grinding her teeth and glaring at the altar, while trying not to be seen. 

Reginald looked over the rest of the crowd and saw only people excited about events. No one seemed offended by who was marrying whom here. But then the music started and Bertie stumbled out of the vestibule opposite Jeeves, and the crowd no longer mattered. Bertie’s coat ended about mid thigh, had a high collar and a military cut, the same as Jeeves’. But Jeeves had opted for the dark green of his family’s coat-of-arms. Bertie’s coat was a plush cranberry over tan pants that were one shade shy of being gold. The shirt under the coat didn’t show, but they were walking towards each other, and shortly clothes wouldn’t be an issue. 

Besides walking toward each other at the same time, they’d also changed the vows. Jeeves had thought it interesting that the ancient vows were more open-minded and appropriate then modern ones, but anything Bertie said would have been enough for Jeeves. Four hands clasped, and Jeeves spoke first. Bertie repeated the words, spot on despite his fear of messing them up. Then they turned to the priest for the final words and a benediction. Here, they could have released hands, if they’d wanted to. Instead Bertie’s right hand stayed entwined with Jeeves’ left as they prayed. 

Whatever Lady Worplesdon thought of them, the deal was done without an objection and they faced the congregation as equals. Lady Worplesdon looked angry enough to smelt iron with the look she was giving Jeeves, but as she had been tricked by her assumption that he was a servant, Jeeves couldn’t feel sorry for her. If Bertie wished it, Jeeves would ask for her forgiveness, but he doubted Bertie wanted such a thing. The line between hurt and needlessly hurt hadn’t been crossed here. 

There was a long line of well wishers and sycophants to attend to before they opened gifts, and afternoon faded into evening. The wedding concluded with a grand supper, Anatole’s skill making even Lady Worplesdon eat to bursting. Jeeves’ found Bertie and him, who could doubtless use the energy tonight, were both too excited to eat properly. 

At the appropriate signal, Bertie lead Jeeves to the dance floor, their dance opening the floor for others to start dancing. Bertie even managed to coax his aunt to the floor for the next song, which lessened her scowl for a few minutes. Later, while Jeeves and Bertie danced with guests, Jeeves noticed Lady Worplesdon was starting to list to port. His new aunt must have decided she liked the wine that had been provided. A small smile and Jeeves went back to waiting out the night. 

Time was crawling by, torturing Jeeves. He finally had Bertie with him, close enough to touch, but not in the way he wanted to. Just when Jeeves was plotting ways to fake the signal, the tower bells rang to signify it was fully night. People familiar with the tradition began cheering and rapping goblets with cutlery. Bertie looked to Jeeves for an explanation, but Jeeves pulled him to his tired feet. The quick kiss on the lips might have been to convince people it was a political marriage, but the participants knew the chaste kiss was so they didn’t respond to each other in front of an audience. 

Hand in hand, they left the main hall to loud congratulatory sounds. Bertie giggled as they left, free for once from Agatha’s angry glare. The look she was giving King Charles was filled with a different kind of heat. Jeeves considered warning his oblivious uncle, but Charlie could look after himself, at least for the duration of the honeymoon. 

After the cheering died down, there would be more drinking and dancing as the wedding was celebrated. Bertie and Jeeves would have a solid month together, without responsibilities from this instant on. Bertie knew that much of tradition, Jeeves having teased him with it often. As soon as the hall doors were closed behind them, Bertie tightened his grip on Jeeves’ hand and ran. Jeeves would have laughed, but Bertie was a highly motivated runner. 

Servants had prepared Jeeves rooms, their rooms now, with lanterns, fresh sheets and flower petals. They simply didn’t notice, because Bertie was kissing Jeeves before they even made it in the door. He shoved Jeeves against the door to close it, kissing away any surprise or pain. Not that Jeeves was passive in this encounter, as his left leg was hooked around Bertie, pulling him as close as possible while Jeeves pulled the unflattering coat off his spouse. Bertie’s hands simply pulled up the coat so they could get to the pants underneath, and the excited anatomy under the pants. 

“Oh my!” The whispered words stopped both men in an instant. 

With their lips were securely fastened, Bertie and Jeeves knew they hadn’t said anything. Bertie flushed to match his coat, (which was on the floor because Jeeves was very good at removing clothing) but used only his head to look for the source of the words. His body hid their arousal from whoever was watching, the arousal that wasn’t quite ready to fade. Two people stood beside the fireplace, and Bertie recognized them both but only knew one by name. 

“What ho, Connla?” 

The young woman flushed at being addressed by name and began to stutter out an explanation. “We were readying the room and bringing up gifts, from the king himself, and then we…” 

Connla trailed off and looked at Annis for help. Jeeves considered their lips to be almost as swollen as Bertie’s, so he had a good idea what they’d been doing. 

“Just talking. You know how us girls like to talk.” Annis was smart enough to use such generalizations to her advantage, but a terrible liar. She seemed to know it, and pushed into the reason for them being there. “Anyway, we got the room ready for you. Connla brought up some food, as instructed, and I have, um, presents for you.” 

“Could have just bunged them on the pile we already opened.” 

Bertie wasn’t usually so short, but as they were both still half aroused, Jeeves could certainly understand it. Connla giggled, and Annis’ eyes were as amused as they’d been the night before. 

“The servants sent you a gift, Sir. It would have been presumptuous of us to place it with the gifts of nobles. I asked the king to give it to you, and he suggested I bring it, even sending a gift of his own.” Annis stepped forward and handed over a pint sized glass jar. 

Jeeves took it, and opened it to examine the contents. Little to no odor, it was a very slippery jell. Jeeves didn’t want to seem ignorant, but Annis spoke before he could ask. 

“I might have accidently asked his majesty what it was. He said, and I am quoting here, ‘Reg is a smart boy, he’ll figure it out.’ That’s all I know, Sire.” 

“Thank you, Annis.” The words came automatically, as Jeeves considered the jell. He knew what such things were used for in machines, lubricating the parts so they might fit together easier. He allowed himself to picture a naked Bertie in his mind, even as a calmed Bertie turned away to accept the next gift from Connla. Jeeves considered Bertie’s mouth, but rejected it for being self lubricating. 

“Sir, you were a wonderful bard and we all loved your playing. But we loved you even more, your kindness and happy nature. We knew the other gifts would be grand, which we couldn’t match, but we wanted to give you something.” 

Connla spoke some more, while Jeeves considered the friction of hands on cocks. The lotion he’d used during solo activities had been effective for duets as well, was this product simply better? 

“So, it’s not much, but it’s for you.” 

Connla handed over the package, and Bertie opened it with reverence. It was a gift from people who liked him, which made it far more important to Bertie then Connla knew. Bertie gasped when he saw it, and sent Connla a dazzling smile. She blushed at the intensity of it even as she smiled back. 

“Look, Jeeves! Blank sheet music, so I can write my own songs.” Bertie pressed back into Jeeves to better show off his prize, and Jeeves suddenly thought of a bit of anatomy that could be explored with proper lubrication. Fully hard, Jeeves used his left arm to hold Bertie to him, and hide that evidence of comprehension. 

“Sire, we love your music and hope you continue with it.” Annis, saying in one sentence what Connla had taken a paragraph to say. “But I’m sure we’re needed elsewhere.” 

Smart, clever Annis, who Jeeves liked more as he got to know her, no doubt knew something was up. Or, more precisely, back up. Annis stared at them, until it penetrated Jeeves’ lust befuddled brain just where he was. Jeeves felt himself blush as he used his arm around Bertie’s waste to lead them away from the door so the women could leave. They curtsied and left, but Jeeves still heard Annis whisper to Connla. 

“Why’d you say anything? I was getting interested in watching them.” 

“I spoke because the up against the door thing was giving me ideas.” 

“They don’t really need our help at the reception.” Annis said, and Connla giggled as Jeeves shut the door and locked it. 

Turning, he saw Bertie was naked, but looking at his gift in joy. Jeeves placed his gift on the bedside table and removed his clothes. He’d never use them again, never marry again, but he was still folding them neatly when octopus Bertie attacked. A tackle had them both on the bed, Bertie trying to laugh and pant at the same time. Jeeves solved that conundrum by kissing Bertie’s breath away. 

Jeeves started to rub against Bertie’s hips, just as Bertie rolled them. It was quick, dirty and desperate as they sought to relive the tension of the time apart. Mutually, they wanted to get that needy lust out of their systems so they could move onto the month of pleasure they had planned. Octopus Bertie grabbed for Jeeves’ ass, and his long fingers slid into the cleft. This, combined with Jeeves’ newest idea, was enough to set him off, and Bertie followed. 

When enough breath returned, Bertie spoke. “I didn’t eat much yesterday, I’m rather hungry. Plus I feel I’ll need to keep my strength up for you.” 

“Let me up, and I’ll get you something from the food Connla brought.” 

“Let you up? You’re the one that turns into a right proper squid after that activity!” 

“A squid, Sir?” 

“A dignified squid, I’m sure.” 

“I was clarifying, as I’ve often thought of you as an octopus.” 

“What’s the difference between a squid and an octopus? Not that it matters, as long as we’re both fish in the same kettle.” 

“Indeed we are.” A heated kiss and Jeeves found his feet. He washed off and then filled a pitcher with water. The pitcher went with the basin he had stashed under his bed weeks ago and the pile of flannels that let them wash off without leaving the bed. One of his most brilliant ideas, Jeeves thought. Bertie looked almost asleep and let Jeeves wash him down. Trying not to be disappointed at Bertie falling asleep so soon, Jeeves went to see what food had been provided. 

The ornate silver cloche came up, and out spilled a cascade of little green balls. Peas, to be precise. Somewhat nonplused, Jeeves turned to Bertie, who began to howl with laughter. Carefully, so as to not smash the peas into the floor, Jeeves moved to stand beside the bed. Putting his hands behind his back and waiting seemed the best option, until at last Bertie was able to speak between laughs. 

“It was either that or a month of pea related meals!” 

“That statement presupposes that it was a necessary action.” 

“I did need to do it! Now I’ve got revenge, and you can stop looking so guilty whenever you see a pea.” 

“Had I but asked after your comfort, when could have been married before your aunt arrived.” 

“Tut-tut, my squid prince. She’s your aunt too!” 

Jeeves winced at that, and sat on the bed. “Let’s not talk of her right now. Instead, I have an idea about Uncle Charlie’s gift I would like to share with you.” 

“I like your ideas.” This comment was said in a tone that let Jeeves know just how much Bertie loved his ideas. That tone did funny things to his cock, but he had to tease Bertie a little. 

“If you’re sure you’re not too hungry.” 

“I only hunger for you, my prince in shiny hair!” Even if the words hadn’t indicated Bertie was mocking Madeline, he gave voice to a reasonable imitation of her airy tones. 

Jeeves would explore that, later. For now, he took the lid off the glass jar and dipped his fingers in. Trying not to smear any on the bed sheets, he lay on his back and gave Bertie a suggestive look. The look Bertie sent him was filled with hunger, but not for food. 

“You’re going to show me what that’s for?” 

“I’m going to tell you what I think it’s for, and then you’ll show me if I’m right.” 

“Do tell, please!” 

“On machines and pipes, lubrication helps thing fit together, once the item is prepared. This is where I think I need to be lubricated.” 

Bertie bit his lip as he watched Jeeves’ coated fingers move toward his own pillowy bits. Jeeves had to adjust, try to move his hips and shoulders closer together as he used his left hand to open himself for his right. Somewhat embarrassed by how silly he must have looked, Jeeves looked away from Bertie’s face. Seeing that Bertie was fully hard pushed away any embarrassment, and Jeeves slid on finger into his most personal hole. It should have felt weird or stupid, but the way Bertie was looking at him made it erotic. Jeeves slid the finger in, and pulled it back out slowly, just to watch Bertie’s desire grow. 

“Bertie, dip your fingers in the lubricant.” The lusty voice got instant obedience from Bertie, so Jeeves stashed that idea in the back of his mind for later. Jeeves took a moment to wonder at the idea of so much later, when they’d come so close to not even having a now. “Oh, Bertie!” 

“What, love?” Bertie looked at Jeeves’ face, and Jeeves decide his last statement might have been too sad for this moment. 

“I’m ready for your finger, love.” 

That was all the distracting Bertie needed, as he looked down again. “Are you going to take your finger out?” 

“No. We’re stretching me out, to see what I can take.” 

“What?” Bertie asked, but he wasn’t listening for the answer. Slowly, Bertie slid a finger in. 

Just knowing it was Bertie’s finger made the experience good, and Jeeves wanted more. “Move your finger, stretch me out.” 

“Oh, right.” Tentatively, Bertie turned his finger and stroked something. Jeeves lost his mind for a second, hearing only his body crying for more. Except Bertie had pulled out and moved away, to look at him with fearful eyes. “Do you need a healer? Did I kill you?” 

“Just a little, it was wonderful.” 

“But you came up off the bed and said a word I didn’t even know you knew!” 

“Normally, I’d wonder what word that was. Right now, I just want you to see if you can get me to say it again.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely. Use two fingers to look.” Laying back, Jeeves settled into the bed and bent his knees up while spreading his legs. 

Bertie was interested, but afraid of hurting him. So Jeeves stuck his first two fingers inside and felt around. Bertie scooted forward, fingers twitching. Seeing Bertie so entranced heightened everything, made Jeeves feel beautiful somehow. When Bertie stopped Jeeves’ hand from moving, and then pulled it out, Jeeves felt the loss keenly. He expected Bertie’s slender digits wouldn’t fill him in the way he suddenly wanted. 

He forgot that concern when Bertie’s perfect, talented fingers found that spot again, almost immediately. Jeeves thought maybe there was someone else in the room, as he thought he heard babbling, and Bertie was biting his lower lip too hard to speak. Bertie looked away from his hand to see Jeeves’ face, and Jeeves lost all his control. Slowly adjusting to the weight of his body once again, Jeeves managed to focus on Bertie’s blushing face. Bertie had apparently washed them both off with the flannel now held in his hand. 

“Bertie.” 

“Goodness Jeeves, I didn’t even know that word and I rode over here on a pirate boat!” 

“Did I speak?” 

“Speak? You were jabbering about poetry making sense and rabbits, in between instructions on what to do. More, harder, move, thrust, and I think the whole castle just heard that last word you said.” 

“I hope I didn’t disgust you terribly, Sir.” Jeeves meant it, but was enjoying the floating sensation he was still feeling too much to sound like he meant it. 

“Disgust? I came off from hearing you say it.” 

“What word?” 

“I’m not going to say it, it’s filthy!” 

“And nothing I can say or do will convince you otherwise?” 

“Maybe, if you did to me, what I did to you, I’ll shout the same thing.” 

“A fascinating experiment, I’m sure. But I fear I am not up to just yet, Sir.” 

“Neither am I. A quick snack of bread and cheese, a five minute rest period, and then we try.” 

“Are you really going to leave the room so soon?” The idea of Bertie going down to the kitchens now made Jeeves’ wonder if he should have feed Bertie before having sex again. 

“No, not until I have to leave and then only with you. When I thought up the pea gag, I stashed the real food in my wardrobe.” 

Jeeves’ floating feeling disappeared with those words, and he turned to look at Bertie. “You put food in with your clothing?” 

“No, I asked Connla to do it; once I found out I wasn’t allowed back into the room.” 

“Whatever am I going to do with you?” 

“You’re going to find out what I say under the influence of your fingers, later.” 

“Later.” 

“Later, and probably repeatedly. You really seemed to enjoy it.” Looking thoughtful, Bertie lay beside Jeeves.’ 

“Later, I will give you so much satisfaction that you’ll forget there was ever a before.” 

“Is that a promise?” The pillow talk had triggered something in Bertie, and there was a plaintive note to his question. 

“Yes.” The word was inadequate, and Jeeves pulled Bertie to him, octopus meeting squid as he repeated part of the vows from earlier. “Ye are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone. I give ye my body, that we two might be one. I give ye my spirit, ‘til our life shall be done.” 

“You cannot possession me for I belong to myself, but while we both wish it; I give you that which is mine to give.” Bertie said, and Jeeves’ joined him for the rest, their voices as entwined as their bodies. 

“You cannot command me, for I am a free person, but I shall serve you in those ways you require. I shall be a shield for your back, as you are for mine. Above and beyond this, I will cherish and honor you through this life and into the next.” 

The passionate kiss they could not risk before a crowd sealed the vows at last. Bertie pulled away to add his own meaningful contribution in a sleepy voice. 

“Later, and repeatedly.” 

Together and sated, they smiled themselves to sleep. After a short nap, they woke up to start living happily ever after. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

“Ye are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone. I give ye my body, that we two might be one. I give ye my spirit, ‘til our life shall be done. You cannot possession me for I belong to myself, but while we both wish it; I give you that which is mine to give. You cannot command me, for I am a free person, but I shall serve you in those ways you require. I shall be a shield for your back, as you are for mine. Above and beyond this, I will cherish and honor you through this life and into the next.”

Traditional Celtic wedding vows.


End file.
